Last year was the first time that my husband and I watched the fireworks alone. Our kids have long since moved out or are otherwise occupied with their own pursuits; they hold jobs now that promise alluring holiday pay rates or they choose to mark the day with friends or cuddled up with their sweethearts. Independence Day fell on a Thursday last year, which already put a damper on the celebrations and heavy clouds dumped their loads periodically through the afternoon, further depressing the holiday spirit. In the end, the sky cleared just in time for fireworks, although my husband and I merely watched from our back porch, huddled companionably in the dark together with just the distraught dogs for company.
Until this year, I hadn’t much counted the Fourth of July as a family holiday; those were always reserved for the big days of Thanksgiving, Easter and of course, Christmas. As I watched the sparkling display unfurl in the sky and listened to the distant booms, I began to reconsider. While we hadn’t done much in the way of formal celebrations, such as attending parades, we had always seemed to mark the day in some way that involved spending time together, whether it was at the park, barbecuing or hanging out and playing games. I imagined that many families were the same, regardless of what rituals they followed. The absence of the kids seemed to highlight that every holiday was a family one. With the family growing away, it was a bit … lonely. I was fortunate to still stay in touch in many other ways with mine, even if this particular Fourth wasn’t turning out the way I’d planned.
The same couldn’t be said for some of the clients I talked to on a weekly basis. I reflected on a certain man, Fred1, with whom I’d spoken to just the day before. He didn’t seem to have any interest in the upcoming celebrations. “Are you attending the parade?” I’d asked him, knowing he had an interest in antique cars and tractors that would be on display.
“Nah,” he’d replied. “Not really my scene.”
“Do you enjoy watching the fireworks?” I’d prompted.
He paused, as if trying to figure out the answer to a particularly difficult problem. “When you get to be my age, you’ve seen a lot of those kinds of things,” he said finally. “I’ll probably just go to bed early.”
Fred, like many of the people I talk to, is a grandpa and a father. He could be your grandpa or father, or someone in your community. The feeling of loneliness can strike hard out of nowhere, and it can hit at times we wouldn’t suspect. Christmas, birthdays, “family” holidays are all times when we know to watch our isolated seniors, but we don’t really consider innocuous times like the Fourth of July as a trigger for loneliness. The fact is, loneliness is usually there all along, but it swells at times when people remember the past, and the times they used to spend with family. Any time could be a hard time for a loved one. Any time could be a struggle for them.
How can you be expected to stay vigilant against such a struggle? Well, by just by staying connected. By being that friend or family who cares enough to be in their life. When people know they have someone to talk to, the sense of loneliness and isolation decreases. The veil of sadness that might claim the memories of the past can recede because our loved ones are uplifted if they have someone in the here and now who cares to talk to them. You don’t need to be there at all times—just the times that count. As I sat in the twilight next to my husband, I realized that this new way of celebrating wasn’t necessarily a bad way. We had each other. I had my memories of times past with the kids. Knowing all that, I snuggled in and enjoyed the show. The key is being a strong friend for someone who is lost in the dark so that they, too, can relax and enjoy the lights around them, too.
- Not his real name ↩︎
