I have never lived alone. I am the oldest of four and was sent to boarding school at the age of 12 where I stayed until 18. I always shared a room, first with my sister 18 months younger than I, then in a long dormitory with twenty other girls, then in rooms with two to four room-mates. After I married, I shared beds, closets, cars, space of every kind. Divorced for over three years I had my children every week and on the week-ends when they were away stayed busy with friends and I always knew the children would be back soon. When I remarried, I found the kind of partner I had never known. We worked together and traveled together and were seldom apart until his advancing dementia required moving him to assisted living just over a year ago. So now at 78 I am finding myself living alone. The children are grown and have busy lives. My husband is gone and won't be back. I have no interest in sharing space again and I don't want to move to assisted living myself. But I am spending way too much time alone, not wanting to go out, not wanting to do anything unless I am pulled out of my room. There were times in the past when I wished I had more space to myself, more quiet, more independence. Now I have it, and it isn't being easy learning to live with it. This is a new challenge. I think often of all those who have had to rewrite their lives, many at younger ages and with harder tasks and I tell myself that I have to be at least as strong but I do wonder if I can. I am hoping I will come to be more comfortable with it, but it seems a long way off.