The Eleanor Rigby Syndrome

 “All the lonely people

Where do they all belong?
Father MackenziеWriting the words of a sermonThat no one will hеar no one comes near”

Switching gears completely for a moment, being a widower has been a strange and awful experience. It’s the club no one wants to be a member of. I’ll be posting a lot more on what my life has been like since Jan passed away. But one of my more immediate issues has been loneliness - I’m referring to it as the Eleanor Rigby Syndrome. During Jan’s decline as the cancer advanced, I spent a great deal of my time responding to text messages and phone calls from friends and family, checking in on how Jan was doing, and also how I was handling the stress. Everyone knew that I was running around at 100mph, trying to do everything possible for her. Once Jan passed, that flood of well wishers has dried up to a small trickle of close friends, who check in on me at regular intervals. These are the true friends. We also had some very close friends who have not contacted me in almost 5 months, and in most cases, some respond only if I contact them. Locally, Jan’s group of friends have just about forgotten about her..and me. With the exception of a few of my friends, most of my human contact comes from working out at the tennis club. On the flip side, there were some surprises in terms of support, people who I did not know that well who have reached out to me - I so appreciate that. Quite frankly, if I were to fall down the stairs and break my neck or decide to blow my brains out some day, I doubt if anyone would check up on me for a month or two. My brother would be the first to worry. Either that or someone would notice turkey vultures hanging around on the roof. It’s frightening being alone after 49 years.

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