Since my husband passed away last year and my children live abroad, I’ve been struggling to navigate life alone as a school teacher. Every day feels like I’m just going through the motions, doing my best to stay busy so that I don’t have to confront the quiet emptiness that greets me at home. My husband was my partner in everything—my confidant, my biggest supporter, and the person who made even the dullest of days feel full of life. Now, without him, the house feels far too big, far too quiet.

Teaching is one of the few things that still gives me purpose. My students bring a bit of light into my life, and the classroom has become my refuge. The joy in their eyes when they learn something new, the sound of their laughter during a break, the energy they bring—it’s a reminder that the world keeps moving, even when I feel stuck. But when the final bell rings and the school day ends, I’m left with a silence that seems to grow louder every evening.

Weekends are the hardest. Without the structure of my job, I feel lost in my own home, surrounded by the echoes of a life that I used to share with my husband. I keep busy with lesson plans, grading, and anything else that might distract me from the ache of missing him. Sometimes, I reach for my phone, tempted to call my children, but they’re so far away, wrapped up in their own lives. I don’t want to be a burden, even though the loneliness feels like a weight pressing down on my chest.

I know I need to find a way forward, to rediscover the things that once made me happy. But it’s hard to imagine a future without the person I thought I’d grow old with, and it’s hard to feel connected to my children when they’re half a world away. So, for now, I keep moving one step at a time, finding small joys where I can—whether it’s in a student’s success, a quiet walk, or the rare phone call from my kids. I’m trying to learn how to stand on my own, but it’s a journey I never expected to take alone.