I WAS SITTING OPPOSITE MARY SEARING at a Rancho Benicia potluck and we were laughing as we reminisced about growing up on the streets of New York.

We were not homeless. That is just an expression that refers to the amount of time spent away from our apartments.

As our conversation progressed to the more personal, as interchanges often do with women, Mary shared a feeling she had as the darkness of night descends. You can imagine my surprise as she described a feeling I have had since my husband died.

Neither of us was able to find a word that explained what the heck it was. We knew it wasn’t grief, though we had felt that deeply; it wasn’t depression, anxiety, loneliness, aloneness or sadness. We were perplexed. Mary inspired me to begin a quest of discovery.

I spoke to Gail D’Angelo and she knew the feeling and described it as feeling as if a veil had fallen over her. She thought it was melancholy. Out came the Webster’s and the definition: a tendency to be sad, gloomy or depressed.

We agreed that wasn’t it. Gail inspired me to find out what it was.

I have since spoken to many widows in my circle of friends and acquaintances and they all know the feeling. It is uncomfortable and inexplicable. We ask ourselves if we would rather be with someone when night falls. Do we want another relationship to take the place of the one lost? Our answer is no. We find our days full, with interests, family, friends, reading and activities galore. It is the absence of something.

Enter my friend June Gifford. We met at Mimi’s, where we have many a philosophical conversation.

Me: June, I want to process something with you. I have talked about that strange feeling that comes over me at night when I am alone. I don’t understand what it is, but I can describe it. I feel something is missing and yet when I try to put a name to it the concept eludes me.

June: I know what you mean. When I was alone for a few years, I had the same feeling, but I was 40 so I set out to replace my significant other. I did feel not quite right for a while though.

Me: I’ve spoken to several widows who are experiencing the same feeling but we don’t understand why, as our lives are very full and many of us don’t want a replacement relationship. We are really content and at peace.

June: Maybe we can define what is missing so that we can get a handle on this emotion.

Me: I think it might be that we are no longer the number-one priority in anyone’s life. The specialness of having someone committed to you before all others just doesn’t exist anymore. To have someone with whom you are so comfortable that you don’t even have to converse and you share all the small things in life is gone. Nothing can replace that except on the odd chance that you find another incredible person with whom you share again. That is rather unlikely but not impossible.

June: It seems what you are missing is a soul connection or an energetic vibration.

Me: I don’t even think it matters if it is a soul connection or that the relationship you had was without stress or difficulty. You were the significant other and had an undeniable status in someone else’s life.

June: It sounds like it was a presence you could count on which provided a consistent connection.

Me: I don’t think there is a word to describe the feeling.

June: Neither do I.

After much deliberation, here are the words we created:

The person is feeling dispriorgenic — an uncomfortable feeling originating in the fact that you are no longer anyone’s number-one priority.

In other words, the person is suffering from dispriorgenesis — the state of not being anyone’s number-one priority and not having anyone as your number-one priority.

What I discovered is the power of language. Now that I understand what I have is a normal condition, I feel at peace. The feeling comes on when you are alone after you have had many years basking in the knowledge that you are numero uno to someone. I feel better about the descending of the night. I embrace the fact that I was at one time someone’s special person.

Now I understand why my dog Marshmallow’s upset when I am gone. He thinks I may not return. I am his number-one priority and he is suffering from dispriorgenesis.

Ellen Blaufarb is a marriage family therapist and counselor at Liberty High School.