My elderly neighbor across the street died a few weeks ago with only his dog for company. The only fanfare of his passing was the police lights and the coroner’s hours-long visit when he was discovered, it’s estimated about five days after the fact. The cause has yet to be determined.

It’s a strangeness that such inherently-social beings, humans, should end up in permanent circumstances of loneliness. Sometimes it’s by choice. I confess to deeply enjoying solitude. But, I also revel in the company of good friends. And, I’m often torn between the two for reasons I have yet to fully understand. Fortunately, I am relatively free to decide when and how to socialize. But sometimes, we end up alone, not by choice, and any inner longing for companionship wears at the soul.

I fear that many who have survived to older age and have lost a spouse or companion or are far from family and friends, both of which seem to have been my neighbor’s condition, that they feel trapped. Only the strongest survive; rather, they survive longer. Perhaps the effects can be lessened, or mitigated, by a strong sense of meaning about one’s life. Lonely, or not, that is the goal, right?

I developed a theory that the surest way to satisfaction about life is to either make history or preserve it. This could otherwise be said to either do something for which you’ll be remembered, or work to pass something on to future generations. The latter could be the obvious preservation of history via writing, photography, curating, secretarial work, &c. But, it could also be producing children and raising them well, charitably working for the lasting benefit of others (this co-mingles with the former definition), or teaching, in whatever form that takes, among many other things.

I recently ran across this quote again that better and more eloquently summarizes the above, from a collection that attempts to define success:

To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

- Bessie A. Stanley, 1911

I wish this for everyone. I hope that you found it, too, Ken. Rest in peace.