I never learned how to live alone. When my wife exhaled her final breath just before the pandemic began, I found myself grappling with overwhelming loneliness and all-consuming grief amid human touchless isolation. I was left facing ear-ringing silence and the daunting task of managing household and financial responsibilities by myself.

Utterly freaked and flirting with futility, I felt life’s stick whack me upside the head. 

Now what? 

I hadn’t lived alone or balanced a checkbook in 30 years. Sure, I could cook and do laundry, but Sandi had always handled the finances, cleaned the house and kept me grounded. A clueless, albeit grateful “kept man,” I remember speaking to my late wife’s absence that I didn’t know cleaning the house and paying bills could be so therapeutic.

At first, I deluded myself into thinking I didn’t need anyone—that I could figure it out on my own. Not! 

I swiftly realized that isolating myself would harm my mental and physical well-being. Humans need connection to heal and feel whole again—empathetic family, community support, hugs and the gentle nuzzles from four-legged friends.

So, one leg at a time, I pulled on my big boy pants, and with tutelage, I learned to manage household finances, adapt to living alone and build self-confidence. It wasn’t easy, and it took a lot of support, but I faced my worst fears and conquered them one by one.

I came to understand that loneliness, as painful as it is, is a necessary part of the healing process. It’s okay to cry and bang the walls. Letting tears flow until I nearly dehydrated helped me process the loss and begin to accept the unwritten chapters of my new life. The depth of my grief mirrored the depth of our love.

Eventually, I realized I cannot control what happens, but I can control how I deal with it. Loneliness takes as long as it needs, but having meaningful outlets helps. For me, tending the garden, writing, hanging out with like-minded folks, working on personal growth, hitting the gym and spoiling my two morkies (maltese and yorkie mix) brought me comfort. My fur babies, with their unconditional love, even triggered dopamine bursts in my brain—nature’s feel-good drug.

It’s not mentally and physically healthy to journey alone. If you feel overwhelmed by loneliness, help is available. 

The Institute on Aging’s Friendship Line offers a 24/7 crisis hotline for those 60 and older, providing a caring ear and meaningful conversation. It’s a lifeline for anyone struggling with isolation, depression or hopelessness.

Once I regained some control of where my thoughts went, I no longer needed to distract myself and fill in the silence. Gradually, I came to prefer moments of solitude, choosing introspection over wallowing in widower’s loneliness. It taught me to embrace my own company and find inner peace. After all, how could I feel lonely if I enjoyed the person I was alone with?

As French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said, “If you are lonely when you’re alone, then you are in bad company.” Similarly, Thich Nhat Hanh, a spiritual leader, poet and peace activist, beautifully reminds us that “Silence is essential. We need silence, just as much as we need air, just as much as plants need light. If our minds are crowded with words and thoughts, there is no space for us.”

Through this journey, I’ve learned the difference between loneliness and solitude. Loneliness feels imposed, while solitude is a choice—like a contemplative mountaintop guru seeking growth. Over time, I pieced my shattered heart back together. Gradually, the emotional clouds parted and the sun shone down again, just not as brightly.

Surviving loneliness takes courage, patience and self-reflection. It’s ongoing work, but I’ve come to realize that grief will always be a part of who I am.

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting; it means moving forward. And though the journey is long, I know I’m going to be all right. And you will be, too, eventually.

Feeling lonely? There is help.

The holidays can be a challenging season, especially if you’re feeling lonely or isolated. If you need someone to talk to, the Institute on Aging’s Friendship Line is a free, 24/7 helpline offering support, understanding and a caring ear for older adults aged 60 and above. 

Whether you’re experiencing loneliness, grief or simply need a friendly conversation, trained volunteers are ready to listen and provide comfort.

Call the Friendship Line at 888-670-1360.