Dear Eric >> I am a widower in my mid-70s. No family, no kids. Multimillionaire; drive a Maserati; am social; look (if friends are truthful) 20 years younger; well-traveled. But I have no friends. Lots of acquaintances, bartenders, wait staff whose attention I enjoy, but no one I feel close to. Don’t suggest church, as I am a secular humanist. I am alone and, frequently, lonely, even though I am socially active. What’s wrong?

— Still Grieving

Dear Still Grieving >> When I got to the end of your letter and read the name you chose, I felt two sensations: a lightbulb going off and a deep, compassionate bolt of pain. I suspect some of your social isolation is related to your grief.

Loss of a spouse or companion often makes us feel like we’ve lost a part of ourselves. The grief is complicated — even if it’s been months or years — and it makes it hard to re-engage with life in a way that makes sense. This is not your fault. I know that you’re eager to make connections, but the way you relate to the world is going to be different and produce a lot of stops and starts.

Ask yourself what you’re looking for and try to be as specific as possible. What would it look like if you had the life you want right now? And are there small steps you can take to get there? Give yourself time.

You’re not alone in this. Social connections are hard for so many people. I’m not going to suggest church, but I am going to suggest a grief support group, where you can find people who understand some of what you’re going through and, perhaps, might be good candidates for friendship.

Dear Eric >> I read Work, Life, Love, Balance’s letter, and thought I’d add the perspective of a senior (I’m 63). When I was this gentleperson’s age, I had exactly two dates from a dating service when they were the “thing” in the ’80s, and each one was an unmitigated disaster. I stopped looking.

Then I met this fella at, of all places, a “Doctor Who” party. He was listening to the Moody Blues; I stopped to remark about this because I was as well and we struck up a friendship, first through letters. He became a good friend, then my best friend and, later this month, we will have been married for 34 years.

My advice is this: A relationship may find you when you stop looking. I’ve noted over the years that sometimes the strongest relationships that last the longest, often start out as friends.

— Married to the One

Dear Still Married >> I love your story and this advice so much! “Doctor Who” and the Moody Blues! What a combo. Congrats on 34 years!