He had a lung disease similar to one that ended my own father’s life, so, naturally it made me pause and think.

In March of 2002, I moved from Massachusetts to California for a job. I always thought California might be the place for me. But the decision to move was an emotional one. My father’s health had been declining and it just didn’t seem like the best time to be leaving. Growing up my father and I didn’t have the greatest relationship. He was the relentless teacher and I was the relentlessly reluctant student. After college all that changed, perhaps because his fatherly, teaching duties were over (and maybe because I had my own car and insurance, and was no longer a risk to his). He did his job and released me into the world. I enjoyed our new relationship and this made the decision difficult.

I came home a couple times in the first few months, once in June for a family wedding and again in August for a vacation of sorts. It was during my trip in August when my father began to have troubles related to his illness. He was admitted to the local hospital. I said goodbye to him on a Sunday before heading to the airport. It was upsetting but it never crossed my mind that this would be the last time I would speak to him. Nobody ever eluded that he was in that much decline. One week later I received a call from my oldest brother telling me he was gone. I would never talk to my dad again. I was numb. That numbness continued the whole flight home, so much that I don’t recall anything between the time I got on and off the plane.

I was living in California by myself but technically I wasn’t single. My girlfriend of two years and I were trying to figure out what we were going to do. She greeted me at the airport. I spent the week with her and my family. Everybody was hurting. Emotions were running high. We had a church service. We invited family and friends to a reception at my parent’s house. We buried his ashes a few days later.

I returned to California having experienced the most emotionally exhausting week of my life. It was a place where I had few friends and only one close friend. And even though one of my brothers lived about sixty miles south in Los Angeles, I felt very much alone. And I was incredibly sad.

I’m a fairly independent and private person, and not one who can easily ask for help, especially if I thought I was burdening someone else with my problems, so to say I didn’t know where to turn was an understatement. I believe not being around my mom and my family, and around the house where I grew up made it difficult for me to go through a grieving process. I did speak with old and dear friends back home from time to time. Some were grieving the loss of a parent as well. I tried to be comforting without breaking down thinking about my dad. I spoke with my mom, my girlfriend and my nearby brother. But at the end of the day I was physically alone with nobody to hug or hold my hand. Each day after work I would return to my apartment, which was empty since I had yet to move out my belongings, the only exception a small table and chairs, and an air mattress. Each night I would be overcome with grief, sitting on the floor of an empty living room, literally wailing, the sounds echoing off the bare walls. I can’t possibly imagine what my neighbors were thinking.

It got pretty bad until I finally sought help through a workplace Employee Assistance Program. I started to see a grief counselor. It was a huge relief. I’d talk. I’d cry. She would ask a question and I would talk and cry some more. Every visit was exhausting but incredibly beneficial. She suggested books by Dan Millman (The Peaceful Warrior) and Eckhart Tolle (The Power of Now), books that I still pull off the shelf and re-read every now and then when I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed with life.

I mentioned my friend at the beginning of this post. She asked me, ”so when does the pain and grief begin to lessen?” My response was, “I wish I could tell you it goes away quickly but the truth is it doesn’t.” Based on my experience I told her to “grieve with your family and lean on the people around you without apology.” Which leads me to what any of this has to do with being single. If you have a partner, most likely they will provide the majority of the support you need should you suffer loss. They’ll be the sympathetic ear, shoulder on which to cry, and the open arms waiting to hug. If you’re single and suffer loss you inevitably need to look around in different places for such support. Loss is a part of life; it’s inevitable. And as they say, people grieve in many different ways. But it is the ability to grieve in a manner that will move you forward which is most important. And that may require the help of others. Find them. And should you have a friend who has suffered loss, empathize if you’ve experienced loss yourself and be there for them. If you have no idea what they are going through, you can still help them grieve. Be sympathetic. Listen. Offer to take them out as a distraction to give their mind a rest knowing that their sadness will return. Be a friend. Grieving is difficult enough without having to do it alone.