Most people live with their family until leaving home at around the age of 18. I immediately went to college and had roommates (Stanford classmates for our 50th year reunion in Napa Valley--I'm taking the photo) for all those years. I graduated in June and had, for the first time, total freedom, for I lived alone in my sugar company trainee cottage in Naalehu, the Southernmost community in the USA on the Big Island of Hawaii, As the mountains blocked the signals, even radio did not get to this part of world. There was no television either.
But what I particularly enjoyed was this general independence from relationships. I bought a Triumph TR-3, for the first and last times drove more than 100 MPH, and was never bored. There was a unique sense of sheer happiness.
Then, in September, I met Pearl, fell in love, we got married before the year ended and had a largely blissful existence for 47 years. Nothing wrong with that, mind you. In fact, in many ways I was the luckiest person in the world.
However, my wife suddenly passed away four years ago. It was a Sunday afternoon when I returned to my apartment after spending a month practically living at Kuakini Hospital where she was in intensive care. I had purchased a Dom Perignon for her homecoming, so decided to pop the cork. I composed "Gratitude, Not Grief" for the Huffington Post, which was published the following morning. I also finished the bottle.
We were so close that I should have been crushed, but grief never really came. Instead, I took on two efforts to honor her. I have dropped her ashes at various sites around the world (including the Taj Mahal, Mount Kilimanjaro and Machu Pichu), locations she wanted to visit, but did not mostly because I did not want to go there. The process is in motion to plant the Gold Tree, which she admired, at the Ala Wai Golf Course and Hilo (Councilman Dennis Onishi, her cousin, is leading this second effort).
So I've gone on and, interestingly enough, these past four years have been the best of my life. I like living alone. Pearl did 95% of the shopping, cooking, cleaning and washing, but I have no problems with them, although the apartment could be a lot cleaner. I almost enjoy shopping and cooking for myself. I live a life of fantasy, having been around the world a number of times, including My Ultimate Global Adventure this year. How many of you went to five movies on the same day? Last month I golfed 306 holes. No wonder both my knees hurt.
Turns out that more and more people in America are living alone. In 1950 only 9% of homes were single. Now? Perhaps up to half of us Americans. Sixty percent of households in Stockholm are single.
Are we becoming a nation of hermits? No. On the contrary, for we become more social, according to the New York Times. Chaine des Rotisseurs has a Paniolo BBQ at the Waikiki Sheraton this month and a weekend gathering at the Four Seasons Hualalai next month. Pearl and I tended to spend most of our time together. In many ways I now go out more, even though I value most just staying home, watching TV and having a scotch or glass of wine. My biggest current worry are two temperamental toilets, but my fixer is coming Monday to cure that problem.
Perhaps I'm just rationalizing, for there are the negatives of single living. But I don't let them bother me much. Who knows, things could very well change today with the right person, new or from the past, long ago or recent. And I would welcome that development.
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However, my wife suddenly passed away four years ago. It was a Sunday afternoon when I returned to my apartment after spending a month practically living at Kuakini Hospital where she was in intensive care. I had purchased a Dom Perignon for her homecoming, so decided to pop the cork. I composed "Gratitude, Not Grief" for the Huffington Post, which was published the following morning. I also finished the bottle.
We were so close that I should have been crushed, but grief never really came. Instead, I took on two efforts to honor her. I have dropped her ashes at various sites around the world (including the Taj Mahal, Mount Kilimanjaro and Machu Pichu), locations she wanted to visit, but did not mostly because I did not want to go there. The process is in motion to plant the Gold Tree, which she admired, at the Ala Wai Golf Course and Hilo (Councilman Dennis Onishi, her cousin, is leading this second effort).
So I've gone on and, interestingly enough, these past four years have been the best of my life. I like living alone. Pearl did 95% of the shopping, cooking, cleaning and washing, but I have no problems with them, although the apartment could be a lot cleaner. I almost enjoy shopping and cooking for myself. I live a life of fantasy, having been around the world a number of times, including My Ultimate Global Adventure this year. How many of you went to five movies on the same day? Last month I golfed 306 holes. No wonder both my knees hurt.
Turns out that more and more people in America are living alone. In 1950 only 9% of homes were single. Now? Perhaps up to half of us Americans. Sixty percent of households in Stockholm are single.
Are we becoming a nation of hermits? No. On the contrary, for we become more social, according to the New York Times. Chaine des Rotisseurs has a Paniolo BBQ at the Waikiki Sheraton this month and a weekend gathering at the Four Seasons Hualalai next month. Pearl and I tended to spend most of our time together. In many ways I now go out more, even though I value most just staying home, watching TV and having a scotch or glass of wine. My biggest current worry are two temperamental toilets, but my fixer is coming Monday to cure that problem.
Perhaps I'm just rationalizing, for there are the negatives of single living. But I don't let them bother me much. Who knows, things could very well change today with the right person, new or from the past, long ago or recent. And I would welcome that development.
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