As I’ve said many times, we humans are social creatures.

Solitude isn’t in our nature. Often, even those who claim to like it don’t really want to be alone. So from an early age, we reach out. We seek to form bonds; friendships, family. We learn about each other, take comfort in one another’s presence. Most of all, we seek to connect: to form the kind of deep bond with other people that transcends boundaries.

Many of the bonds we build fade over distance and time. Friends who were close gradually slip away, until they cease to be part of our daily lives, and become part of our past. We might think of them from time to time, reminisce. But that’s as far as it goes. They have their lives, we have ours. So we pocket the memories, and go on making new ones, with new people.

But connections, real connections, endure. When it comes to those treasured few we’ve shared pivotal moments with, the bond never truly fades. We still think about them. We reach out, though perhaps not as often as we should. Because though distance and time may have separated us, the connection remains. Whether they realize it or not, whether or not we do, the impact they’ve had on our lives strengthens the connection. Sometimes, we don’t even realize the connection is still there, until the line is severed. Only then do we see the hole they left in our lives.

My oldest friend passed away recently. He was young, it was sudden. Beyond that, I don’t know what happened to him yet. I may never know. That is something I’ll simply have to accept. But what I do know is that, despite everything, we remained connected. Though we may not have spoke often as adults, when we did, it was clear that our bond remained. Though we were close a long time ago, the role we played in shaping one another’s lives meant we were still important to each other.

Now, I am left with only memories. I look back upon some of my fondest moments as a child, and realize I shared them with someone who is gone. And while I can cherish those memories, it stings knowing there won’t be any more. He cannot share in the joy I feel now. He won’t be able to see me get married. He won’t be able to watch his son grow up, see who he becomes. His story is over, far too soon.

In this year of loneliness and loss, my story is far from unique. We all thought 2016 was the worst year ever: so many famous people, beloved for all they’d given us and accomplished, were lost to the world. But 2020 is different. This time, it isn’t celebrities: people who may have been important to us, but weren’t connected to us. This time, it’s those close to us. Family, loved ones. Friends. Those we’ve connected with. And the pain of losing those connections defies explanation.

Though we’d kept in close contact, speaking frequently, my friend and I hadn’t seen one another in years. We both had our respective lives. I seldom spend enough time in my hometown now to visit old friends. And though I spent this past spring and summer in Sharon, the pandemic got in the way.

Yet, though we hadn’t actually seen each other’s faces in so very long, the connection remained. Throughout this terrible year, the very connections that have hurt us in loss have also saved us. Phones and computers have become lifelines, keeping the bonds we’ve formed as strong as ever. Though we cannot physically meet, we’ve still managed to gather, from different places. And while some relationships have been weakened, others have only grown stronger. Bonds have strengthened through our shared grief, our need for one anther, and our collective hope that this isn’t the “new normal”. That this is just a bump in the road, and the sun will shine again on the other side.

In early spring, when the pandemic struck and the lockdowns began, none of us knew how long this would last, or how much it would change our lives, our relationships. The idea of such disruption, such prolonged isolation, was unfathomable. Yet here we are now: in the midst of the saddest holiday season anyone can remember. We face an uncertain future. No one knows what the holidays next year will look like, or who will be there to share them with us.

It can be tempting, facing such uncertainty, to hunker down. To wish away the present, hoping the future will be better. But each of us has a finite number of days in this world. Every day is precious, and by withdrawing and wishing them away, you’re not only robbing others of a valuable connection; you’re depriving yourself of the very moments that make life worth the struggle.

This year has taken so much from all of us. But it’s also given us more than we realize. It’s strengthened bonds, with family and friends alike. It’s reminded us, in this electronic age, of just how important our human interactions are. It’s shown us that true friendships can survive anything. That love ignores distance and time. And that, no matter what life throws at us, we can and will go on.

Don’t close your eyes. Reach out, and touch as many other lives as you can. Talk to people. Remind them you’re still there. Shout at the top of your lungs and make your presence felt. Exist here and now. Because you are surrounded by people who are hurting just like you are.

They need you, now more than ever. And you need them, more than you realize.