What an interesting question, and something I had not really thought about although I've been alone now for ten years.
I've grown used to being alone and mostly like it now, although there are days when I hate it and could scream.
Like most mothers and grandmothers, I've spent a lot of time caring for others. And although it is true to say there is no-one in my life who would put me first, I think there are those that are fond of me and wouldn't see me in want or trouble. I've been incredibly lucky in having two dear thoughtful sons, and four lovable grandchildren. But they have busy lives, and at the end of the day I know I am alone, like a lot of elderly people are, and am aware of having to stand on my own two feet most of the time. Making decisions is one the hardest things for me. And coping with practical problems. But there is something about my aloneness and independence which I like, in a funny sort of a way. It's hard to explain, but I often feel instinctively that I am somehow meant to be alone.
There is a poem by Walt Whitman called Quicksand Years, from his Leaves of Grass, which I often read and one line at the end in particular resonates;-
"When shows break up, what but oneself is sure?"