It’s good you can’t see me right now because I look as rough as I feel. But I'm here in a wimpy, sickly state because I want to give props to those who live alone. Serious praise. Here’s why…

I woke up in the middle of the night with my stomach feeling like Vesuvius. Of course when I get sick, or we lose power, or the car dies (which happened two days ago), my hubby is usually out of town. Same thing last night. I hung over the toilet, feeling horrible, hating even the thought of throwing up, wanting to get it over with and not wanting to be alone. I missed my husband’s comforting words, his hand rubbing my back, asking, “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” 

After I cleaned myself up and dragged myself back to bed, I lay with the covers pulled up to my chin and thought about the single parents, the struggling seniors, everyone who pushes through alone, especially those with far more difficult circumstances than just a night of Vesuvius. This morning, with hair disheveled and a sour stomach, I salute you for all that you handle, for going it alone and teaching the rest of us grace and perseverance in the process. My friends who do this: You amaze me and I need to show you that.

Here’s what I propose we all do: Make a list of people you know who live alone and check on them. Offer to be there, even if just on the phone, when things go wrong in the middle of the night. Ask this one over for dinner or to hunker down for a movie night when the weather turns bad. Tell that one to call you when he gets sick. There are lots of ways to be there for one another and last night was my wake up call to do better for the ones I know who are on their own…. right after my stomach settles.

Peace and love, Underdogs!