I tell myself I am normal, that I am a normal late-middle-age woman with a normal house and normal life and normal…you know…normal.

And then there are days like today when I realize I’m not.

Today I attended a funeral for a wonderful woman who taught me in high school, and it was fantastic seeing so many faces I knew and talking to people who have been in my life for, well, really my whole life. Then it happened.

I saw a couple I have known my whole life but haven’t seen in years, and I caught the wife’s attention, told her who I am, and gave her her a hug. I ask how the family is, and they are great. Then she asks, “How is everyone?” 

And I froze.

Everyone?

Now you need to understand, they leased pasture land from my grandmother. They were friends with my parents. They sent graduation gifts to my brother and me. They sent me a wedding gift.

Everyone?

“My kids and I are doing well,” I finally managed to say with a smile, sure she knew my parents had passed, but did she know about my brother? Please don’t ask about him today. Not. Today.

She hesitate with “that” eye change, but then said she was so glad to hear that, and someone else said something, and the moment was gone.

Everyone.

My kids and me.

That is my everyone.

Then I went to lunch with ladies I graduated with and have rarely seen since, and it was nice to hear about their families. Their parents, kids, grandkids, husbands, siblings. You know. Their everyone. 

And I listened.

These women were beautiful and open, and I enjoyed hearing all about their families and lives, and I…felt so completely…reminded of how not normal my life really is.

It’s strange how being around people can remind you that you are alone.

I’m just going to leave that there.

I don’t have some deep wisdom to wrap it in so it is nice and tidy.

It’s been a long time since I felt punched in the chest, and today it happened twice, and I’m still trying to catch my breath.

But I guess that is normal.