(Dead Horse Point State Park. We stopped there after going to Arches National Park in Moab, Utah on Road Trip 2016. If you are planning a road trip and Utah is on it, stop here. It was breathtaking.)

Recently at the library, I walked up to the counter surrounded by the kids, each holding their own pile of books. The librarian greeted us, and without saying anything else, turned around and pulled my inter-library loan books off of the shelf behind the front desk.

I hadn’t given him my card, he just knows who I am.

It felt really good to be known.

I just quit Facebook a month ago. Most of my closest friends live far away. My local ones friends I see sporadically at best, almost always with kids in tow. Life feels really lonely.

When one of my kid’s friends’ mom was asking about my ethnicity, it was kind of funny, but sad, too – our kids have been friends for years and easily go from their house to ours, but their parents have never met.

A couple of years ago, we got new neighbors across the street. A house flipper bought the house, and we watched eagerly as the overgrown shrub in front was cut down, and a great deal of activity occurred inside. When they had an open house, I went. When the house sold, I went over and introduced myself, excited to make a connection. My new neighbor’s comment? “Oh, yeah, our next door neighbor told us you have a drummer over at your house.”

Womp Womp.

They haven’t spoken to us since, and we are lucky to exchange waves if we’re both outside clearing the snow off of our cars at the same time.

We have a good relationship with our neighbors on either side of our house, but we would never get together for a backyard bar-b-q or share a beer as the sun set or anything like that.

For years, I used to go grocery shopping at BJ’s on Tuesday evenings. Sometimes I went with my kids, but as I had more of them, I started leaving them at home more often so that I could shop in peace. The older man who checked receipts knew me and remembered me whether or not I had my kids with me. He always said hello, made conversation, and gave me a kind smile. I know, you could argue that it was his job.

About a year and a half ago, he told me as I was leaving that it was one of his last nights at the job; he was receiving cancer treatment and the resulting weakness meant he could no longer keep working.

I walked out to the car with a lump in my throat. I loaded up my groceries, and walked back into the store and gave that man a hug and told him how much his warm greetings had meant every week when I was tired and stressed. His name was Brian. I never saw him again.

I know that I am in a unique situation where my part-time work, home schooling, and being an introvert prone to low spirits can make for an isolating life. I have to work to stay engaged with others. The times I do interact with people, like our home school cooperative once every two weeks, it is utterly exhausting for me.

If I had a choice and no responsibilities, I would probably stay in bed with a book from mid October until mid March. On the flip side, I am reminded how important community is when such a such a simple thing as being recognized at the library feels meaningful.

The alarm has been raised recently about social and its role in our society, and the lack of community we experience. The profound loneliness in its wake is not a red herring. My loneliness isn’t unique. I think part of blogging is the desire to create a sense of community on my own terms. I’m still trying to figure out how to do community IRL.