I've Fallen And I Can't Get Up

When visiting a friend recently, he confided in me that he is thinking about leaving his piece of beautiful, rural property (which he has lived on for more than 20 years) for a location closer to...well, people. It was a surprising statement, because this friend is not what one would call a "people person," which I suspect is one of the reasons he bought his rural property to begin with. However, now a divorcee with grown children, he has realized that living out in the middle of nowhere can get lonely. He admitted that the phone rarely rings and I was his first visitor in months. There is no one nearby to notice his absence or to miss him. The lingering thought that if he fell off a ladder while doing housework or couldn't get to his phone for some reason, and help would not arrive for a very long time, was sobering. How depressing.

I have realized that my situation is not so far removed. Certainly, I have a load of good friends who I see fairly regularly. Bryony and I have a standing coffee date with my friend Emily and her daughter every Wednesday. Mondays and Wednesdays we volunteer and every other Friday we go to a mother-baby group so Bryony can interact with other kids. So yes, we have stuff to do. But I realized--particularly when I came down with the flu last week--that despite all this, no one would immediately assume that anything was wrong if Bryony and I didn't show up for one of these events. Folks are very understanding of the whole "single mother" situation and tend to give me a lot of leeway if I can't fulfill an obligation. While this is nice during the times that I am behind the eight ball and am running to catch up, it could also be my undoing. If I fall down the stairs to the basement or slip in the bathtub or whatever, I don't think anyone will assume anything is wrong when I don't show up. That's not to say that they won't miss me--in fact, they would probably even call to see if everything is okay--but if I don't show up, and don't answer my phone, friends will likely just assume that I'll call in the next day or so to explain. If I am at the bottom of the stairs with a head injury, or have a fractured pelvic bone in the bathtub, I likely won't have DAYS to wait...and neither will Bryony. I often look at her now, hoping against hope that nothing tragic happens to me in front of her...or that she's not left for hours or days to wait for someone to come find us. Just the thought of her desperate cries, not knowing what happened to me--or worse, thinking that I've abandoned her--and waiting for help to arrive, tears at my heart.

So, in addition to being with Adam again, our move means that if I sustain a traumatic injury during the day that Adam will be home to find me within a few hours' time. It's the little things...