I woke in the middle of the night not feeling well, knowing it was probably nothing but that I’d have to sit it out, and unable to sleep, I decided to do a little reading.
I flipped open my laptop, and found an amazing story on msnbc.com, about Huguette Clark, the reclusive 104-year old heiress who hasn’t been seen for decades. She is reportedly in a hospital in New York.
Looking for a true tale to hold your interest? I suggest you read this one.
Care to extrapolate further, beyond the story itself? Oh, you know those thoughts in the blackest hours of night when you find yourself sick and frightened. The imagination plays its tricks, and only in the light of day will the retelling – to yourself – seem less ominous.
Still – I was feeling alone. Perhaps this wasn’t the best story for me to latch onto as I crawled back into bed after being up then down, several times. And through it all, circling around the disconcerting realization that if it were anything serious, there was no one to call.
One, in a world of duos
I’m convinced that it’s more acceptable to say that you are almost anything other than “lonely.” Admitting to feelings of isolation and loneliness – in our culture – simply isn’t done. If you are alone, it’s assumed that it is your fault, that you’re less worthy, that there is something wrong with you.
I get that look – just a glance – at times. And the feeling that goes along with it. I experienced it last weekend at an informal dinner which was, overall, a lovely evening. But I was the woman alone, the divorcee some 9 years later, and the others around the table were couples. Married couples of 20 years and 30 years and more. Our teens were friends and still are, yet our lives couldn’t be more different.
Withdrawal, reclusiveness
I have old friends who haven’t seen me in a decade or more. They don’t know why exactly, but of course – I do. It has nothing to do with them, and everything to do with the circumstances of my life – the juggling, the constraints, the blur of years of raising children and trying to make ends meet. It is as simple as that, and as complex.
Does my apparent withdrawal from their lives mean I’m reclusive, or simply conserving energy with limited resources? To them, am I standoffish? Mysterious? Or no longer on the radar whatsoever?
Settling into smaller worlds?
I’m no heiress stashed away in a 42-room apartment, believe me. Yet we never know the real stories in people’s lives. We can piece bits together, especially if they write or document moments with pictures and film. Even that is a fragment of what is real, and reality is itself a reflection of perception, language, intention, and invention.
So what about the older woman on your street who is rarely seen? What about the widows, the widowers, those who have divorced and gone about the business of raising kids and just scraping by, working their two jobs and slowly running down? Those for whom a second partner in life simply never happened? Are they growing old alone and despondent? Shutting themselves off, systematically? Would you ever look beyond the graying hair, the frail limbs, the slowed walk to engage? To have a conversation?
I told you – long night. The mind wanders. And darkness hangs heavily, still, even as I tap out these words quickly, wondering about Huguette Clark, whose story, somehow, touches me.
An update, on Huguette’s millions, from Bill Dedman.
Thumbnail photo courtesy msnbc.com article referenced above.
Wish you lived closer. WE could be two in a world of duos!!
You bet, Nicki! (Find me a divorced woman 45 or older who doesn’t “get this!” It all seems so 1960s, doesn’t it? But it still exists.)
And do read the story. It’s fascinating.
Wow. Super poignant post. I want to reach out and hug you. xo
You are kind, Molly. And today, I’d take it. 🙂
I hear you loud and clear and wish it wasn’t so, but hey we can always blog! 🙂
A powerful post riddled with insight and truth. My favorite part?
“Yet we never know the real stories in people’s lives.”
How simple. How true.
I understand this post completely. It’s really, really hard.
You’re right, Wolfie, there’s such a stigma around the word “lonely.” And yet we all are at times, so what’s the immediate, knee-jerk reaction to recoil?
Just try to remember that even though you are lonely, you are not alone. We are here, listening.
Ugh, I hate those in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep and the world seems too quiet and yes, the feeling of loneliness and being scared that the sun won’t come up. But for me what was worse was to be married, sleeping next to my husband (now ex) and feeling the loneliest I’d ever felt in my life. And then you read about Huguette Clark who has all the money and things in the world and doesn’t have one friend, a child, a confidante other than a lawyer. Her story reminds me of Howard Hughes dying in a hotel in Vegas surrounded by jars of his urine, his fingernails and toenails unclipped for years. So another example of not understanding someone’s pain and demons.
Oh Michelle, I hear you. I understand that married loneliness you speak of. It’s a kind of ache that’s inexpressible, and you feel trapped at the same time. As though you ought to be able to do something to fix it. But it takes two to fix that sort of thing, and even then, it isn’t always reparable, is it.
Your point about Huguette Clark (and Howard Hughes) is so à propos. To be that isolated, even with all that money – or perhaps because of it?
And what I find myself thinking, partly because of the stage of life I’m at, is just one of those empty homes. $100 million. Do you realize how many kids could be sent through college on that money?
500 kids, for 4 years, to the finest schools in the country, or 1,000 kids to damn good ones. Or scholarship enough to make all the difference in the world for 2500 kids.
Sure – that’s a drop in the bucket compared to all the talented students who can’t afford school. But imagine the scientists, the researchers, the global leaders, the teachers, the artists, the musicians, the optimistic and hopeful young adults who would benefit. Yes, color me a dreamer. But that’s the sort of thing I think about, when I look at $100 million house, sitting empty.
I’m holding out hope that she has magnificent plans for this house, and, as has been said, we don’t know the whole story.
Wow! I just finished the article. Fascinating. I seriously wonder though if she actually feels lonely. From what I read, it seems like she likes it that way. I also wonder if the distrust of others and the belief that people were only there for her money was something that was fed to her through her parents or other “caretakers”. I also wonder if the paparazzi action in the early years helped drive her to seclusion.
As for thoughts on friendship, my friendships have been a matter of convenience. I know that might sound harsh. I simply don’t have the time to maintain the friendship and so some dear friends and I have departed for no good reason other than “life”. And now, for the last 15 years or so, I’ve picked up an activity that gets me out one night a week with the same group of girls. Sometimes it’s a real hassle to make the time, but I do because I know that to maintain a relationship takes work and during this phase of child-raising, it would be very easy to make my world only consist of work and kids. I won’t let that happen. I need to be me too.
I know, a bit rambling…
And the story was updated just a few hours ago. Fascinating indeed.
I was JUST reading her story when I clicked over to you and saw the subject of your post today – Whoa! That was an odd coincidence.
You make a really good point on the vacancy of one of her estates. A complete sitting duck. No golden goose. Combine the three and she has in her hands the GDP of certain countries! It is appalling and sad at the same time, that some people are bestowed with such great fortune that they are not better able to handle it.
Still…how lonely it must be for her. Perhaps it’s situation like hers that the term “money can’t buy happiness” is most apt, although for the rest of us, a little more of it would certainly help.
I go through phases in which I want to close the world out – not enough time, not enough energy – I trust that the friends will be there when I want them as I hope they trust I will be there. And then there are those nights, like last night, when there is that desire to reach out and know that someone is there. I am not sure it is full loneliness or an aspect of it – that desire to laugh or chat with someone that is in your heart but removed from the daily schedule – or that desire to talk with someone and share a moment with a person that knows you in a way that the kids or the coworkers don’t.
It is perhaps loneliness – but it is not the desire for just anyone to share.
I reached out and my friend was there and then calling back to tell me he might be going to the Middle East for two years – sometimes we find ourselves reaching out without realizing that the other might need to reach out too.
I do wonder what the story is behind the story – and if this woman enjoyed her life with all that she had.
This makes me terribly sad. A lady I loved dearly was a social butterfly in life, filled her world with friends. Her husband and son died in the same year, but she kept going, kept seeing friends. And then she started losing her memories and had to hire help. Unscrupulous help, who sent us away, who wouldn’t let those who loved her see her. And who rewrote her will. I didn’t get to see her before she died. The family fought them, but didn’t win.
And then there is my great grandma-in-law who’s one son isolated her fromthe rest of the family, leaving instructions to keep out her daugter and all the family. And took her house.
Ugly, ugly things. Sorry this is such a sad note. Your thoughts clearly are resonating with me tonight. I hope you are feeling better.
I couldn’t get this post off my mind when I read it last week. I see a lot of lonesome souls, not making eye contact, sitting alone in a booth, head down or with a faraway look on their faces. My hope is that they will continue to dip a toe here and there, every now and then because I believe they’re bound to find warm water that will be inviting enough for them to jump in.
BLW, those epiphanies that we confront in the middle of the night are the ones that are the most telling and at times, the most angst ridden. This post resonates with me in a different way. It reminds me of my mom, a widow after 48 years of marriage and although she has family around her, she has often told me how lonely she feels. As much as I want to say the right words to her, I fumble. I can only muster, “It will be ok Mom.” I know it is not enough, but I don’t think anything can fill the void she feels.
I have really been behind on your blog. (Apologies!) I just read your two posts on the Clarks (along with a goose chase that linked me from your post to articles to slide shows to articles, etc.). Stories like this are beyond fascinating, but separate from the wealth and intrigue I was moved by your statement that anything is more socially acceptable than loneliness. What a truth that is. You can feel it acutely, but to speak a word of it only alienates you further. Such a miserable irony. Thanks for the post and the thoughts that go along with it.