My 43rd November

was lonely.

This was my 43^rd November, and for maybe the first time, I realized how lonely November can be.

I closed my business last week.

It wasn’t much of a business, really. I made it as a place to publish books and decided a website was an opportunity for more…and so I made Bookend Lane a place for Indie authors.

I put in hours and weeks of time to create a sustainable self sufficient database for Indie books…and then failed to promote or market it.

I worked so hard on graphics and plans and schedules, but fell off those plans every time.

…For years.

I thought I was shifting gears, though. A renewed ambition, a more capable future. With the child in school and more time in my day-to-day, I thought I’d do better spreading the word, building it up, making Bookend Lane something.

I started a few things in motion and then…

Then I noticed Wix is a company that doesn’t sit on the right side of history. So when the bill came due, I couldn’t give Wix my money, and shut it all down.

Easy choice in the moment. And it felt like opportunity again, in the same way Bookend Lane felt like an opportunity back in 2019 –

Suddenly the time and expense tied to the Indie Index, Bookend Lane, and all that went with it (the networking!) felt heavy and hard – and the rewards lacking.
So I didn’t renew.

I decided that was that. Relocating the database and information would be time consuming and mentally exhausting, and I was sure I wasn’t paying another cent to Wix.

That was last week, after the entire month of lonely. But last week was when I felt lonely the most.

A few reached out to me; a few didn’t.

I’m incredibly grateful for those who thought of me and how Bookend Lane’s closing would vibe with me. It’s weird how we notice who doesn’t reach out, though, right?

Lonely; Sitting at my computer looking an offline website no one noticed to begin with, and crying over what? Over nothing. Over everything. Over November.

November was rough.

I was sick from before it started and am still working on recovery today as the month finally comes to a close.

Congestion, infection, and more. I’m not entirely sure how I made it through each day sometimes.

We don’t gather for Thanksgiving anyway. Lonely.
No one stops by; our family is few and far apart. Lonely.

My son doesn’t even remember a reality where holidays were busy and chaotic with family and friends and shared spaces; that’ll maybe never be his reality.

Lonely.

The holidays are like that for many; I feel silly complaining at all when I think of that.
And though this reads like a pity party, it isn’t. Even if it is, I guess.
My 43^rd November was lonely, but it wasn’t bad.

November had my mother in surgery again, for her heart.  Aging parents with heart surgeries is a deep sort of lonely. Only some of you will understand. A planned surgery, the second attempt at a corrective procedure for her heart.

We were too sick to visit.

That’s lonely. That’s hard. I didn’t talk about it too much; I’m often nervous that I’m a burden when I speak of things that are hard for me.

Like when my birthday rolled around and I didn’t get any cards in the mail. My mother actually didn’t message until the day after. The only celebratory messages were from the 3 closest to me - or done in public venues after reminders.

My son got me a card, and with my husband’s (minimal) help, made me a cake. With sprinkles. It was a mess, and delicious. Lonely November.

Mom is doing well. The surgery went well, and the recovery went even better. She was home when they said she would be and her anxiety and depression have improved in the days since.

Still too sick to visit, though.

I embraced that loneliness of November this time around. As the nights somehow arrive before the dusks and the cold seeps into our bones and it gets harder to feel the sun, it’s not always easy to embrace the loneliness. But somehow, I did it this year.

Not feeling well enough to talk and not having anyone to talk to who wasn’t also in it with me, made it easier to be quiet. And being quiet made it easier for me to see clearer. It was a freeing lonely.

My 43^rd Thanksgiving was lonely and amazing.

The entire day was full of these tiny moments that made me realize how blessed I am. 
Tiny moments that weren’t tiny at all. 

My son and I did crafts at the table over cinnamon buns and a fruit tray in the morning.
My husband made turkey and all the sides as the day wore on.
We ate and smiled and laughed together from the afternoon until the evening.
I quit smoking. I quit smoking on Thanksgiving Day. Unhealthy habit, of course.  But, to quit an addiction is hard, and I’ve done it before…but I think maybe this time I won’t have to do it again.
We put up our pre-lit holiday tree. No ornaments yet, but the lights are magic.
I talked to my eldest child and our grandchildren; they live so far away, but they know us, they miss us, they love us.
I talked to my mother. She was relieved, she was resting, and she had good food.
We were safe, warm, and fed.

And my mood stayed light and airy and festive.

Our holiday wasn’t dark and dreary at all.
I think it was the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had.

And that made me realize, again, because I feel as though I’ve realized this in the past, that being lonely isn’t a negative sometimes.

For now, our loving, accepting family is just small.

And here I am, on the final day of the month, confident about who I am and who I am not.

November was lonely, and it helped me realize I wasn’t.