On Outliving Your Friends

How to cope with loss upon loss? What do you do about shrinking Friend Lists?

(Author photo)

My friend Carol (above) went to the E.R. late the other night after another fall. I sent her off with a heavy red sweatshirt and a good book but without my company; there are limits to friendship at 11:30 PM. She’s back now, with nothing but praise for the Kaiser E.R. staff; also with a brace to help the fractured vertebra heal and the makings of a doozy of a black eye that’s going to be with her for a while.

So I’m not losing Carol any time soon, I trust. This is good.

But I lost sleep thinking about her, and other friends in other hospitals and hospices and stages of decline. Almost without exception they are younger than I am, a detail that does not go unnoticed by anyone, especially my nonagenarian self.

In the past few months I’ve bid farewell to four longtime friends. Another, two years past her diagnosis with Bulbar ALS (I wrote about that recently) is talking with her family about the approaching date on which she will use California’s legal Medical Aid in Dying.

Another friend who plans to use the CA law obtained his life-ending medications (you must be a terminally ill, mentally competent adult to qualify for the law) about a year ago. Then he defied the odds, and his cancer, by staying alive. That’s the best part about “terminal” illness and nonagenarianism both: you can read statistics all day long but there’s only one you. 

Losing friends is tough at any age, but when you hit the 80s and 90s it can wear you down. So I offer three pieces of advice from a lofty, elderly viewpoint:

1. Don’t let go. Being sick and dying, especially the dying thing, can be lonely business. Show up if you can, whether or not you know what to say. You don’t have to say a word beyond, “I wanted to be here.” If you can’t show up, send word. Call, text, send cards and notes. Drawings, pressed flowers, emails, one small sticker on a postcard. Care.
2. Adopt. Specifically, a few people a few decades younger than you. No legal formalities required, just find some available young people and focus your interest and energies on getting to know them. Ask about their interests, joys, problems. Have them over for pizza. Send them texts and emojis, even things with actual stamps on them. Getting to know younger generations is eye-opening fun — and they’re not likely to up and die on you tomorrow. (With my kids and grandkids all over the globe I have an entire, ever-expanding West Coast Family.)
3. Count your blessings. Then pay them forward. Reach out to survivors in days & weeks after a loss. Support causes the departed supported. Redouble any good works you’ve been doing in his or her honor. Be kind. If the world’s a little worse for their loss, make it a little better.

The thing that matters most about losing friends is what you do in remembering them. Some day others may remember you with kindness.

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(I’m returning to WordPress in fits & starts; thanks for dropping by. While I struggle with this platform and my aged WordPress account I’m finding that Substack is easier and friendlier. You may find other writers there whom you enjoy, and you can always follow them for free — including The Optimistic Eye, which is my official franmorelandjohns Substack.)