Coping With the Death of Old Friends

As we age, the losses come more frequently. We need to give them their due.

I started in this business 50 years ago, last month. My entire career has been in the retirement plan business. Over the years, I have become one of the few remaining elders.

One of my mentors, Bob, once said, “We’d all be partners until the droppin’ off place.” That was Bob, an excellent actuary, and a better pilot. I am a good pilot; Bob was excellent. I miss flying with him to actuarial meetings. Tom, another excellent actuary, was simply fun to banter with 1-2 times a month. Then there is my 40-year relationship with Carleton, which ended last week. I last spoke with him 12 days ago; all was well until it wasn’t.

In the past three years, I have lost a dozen close colleagues, and as I look around the industry meetings, I feel more alone than I should. ?I have also grieved the loss of at least a dozen friends, classmates, and peers. A paradox of living is that?healthy aging?and increased longevity mean you'll have more experiences with death throughout your life.

As we age, so do the people around us. Over time, many of the people that we know and care about will develop chronic or terminal illnesses. Some of them will die during our lifetimes.

Actuarily, I understand it, but emotionally, it is stressful.

We’re approaching the other end of life, and the view differs from here. We don’t talk about how we’ll have to say goodbye someday. I suspect that’s because we can’t even bear to think about it. Yet, the inevitable sad truth is that time is marching on for all of us, whether we like it or not. And we’re getting pushed to the front of the line.

"You can’t grow old friends," an old friend likes to remind me, and he’s right.

These are people you have known since college. You don’t have to explain your worldview because they were around to help you shape it. The thing about old friends is not that they love you, but that they know you.

With adults, there is a natural order of life. Losing children, not so much. On an intellectual level, I know that part of life is death, yet I struggle to reconcile this unfair, if inherent, consequence.

In the second half of our lives, we experience more losses. With aging comes the inevitable death of those we love. It’s hard but also a time of opportunity to live, love, and mourn as fully as possible.

These losses run deep, partly because the relationships are formed over a lifetime.

One of the essential needs of mourning is to explore the change in our identity when these dynamics change.

I found it unhealthy to cram my feelings down inside. One needs to acknowledge their losses. I wonder if the world understands that these connections aren’t secondary, especially when I hear someone say how alone he or she felt when suffering this type of loss. There doesn’t seem to be much research on the subject, either. And where are the books or support groups for adults who have lost a lifelong friend?

“We call it a disenfranchised loss, which is one not recognized as important by others or society,” says Molly Ruggles, a psychologist at the?Center for Grief, Loss & Transition?in St. Paul, Minn., a program of FamilyMeans. “But it’s important to understand that for some, the loss of a friend can be more impactful than if it were a family member.”

Certain kinds of loss are often minimized, and the result is that we can end up as what I call forgotten mourners. We’re grieving inside, but people don’t seem to notice or appreciate the depth of our feelings.

What can make it even harder for boomers is that this may happen while they are experiencing additional losses, like retirement, kids leaving home, or saying goodbye to a beloved pet. Being amid other losses can intensify grief symptoms.

I tell people I had two choices after the death of my children; curl up in a fetal position or keep moving.

What’s the most challenging part of getting older? It’s not aches and wrinkles. Not even close. Meryl Streep gives the simple but profound answer: losing friends. But even though we can’t stop this from happening, we’re not powerless, either.

For those of you who have already been dealt this blow, honor your loss, regardless of whether others recognize it. I share what I’m feeling.

We need to be kind to each other. When our turn comes to be supportive, reach out.

People need someone they can talk to. Grief can be such an isolating experience. People are simply uncomfortable speaking about it.

So, if you have a grieving friend, be available to a grieving person for however long you’re needed. Grief doesn’t magically resolve or go away just because the loss was a year ago, and it can mean a lot for people to know that others in their lives are aware that they’re hurting and are cared for.

It’s true that, as we get older, the droppin’ off place isn’t as far off as it used to be. But there’s still time for us to re-examine what’s necessary if we need to. Maybe only from here can we start to see just how short life is.

It’s also only from here that I can look back on a lifetime of laughter, regrets, growing pains, and the wonder of how I ever survived with just one bathroom and all those sisters. .

I can’t change the inevitable, so I won’t spend this fleeting time in sadness, which I know will someday be heartbreaking. But I will renew my promise never to waste a chance to share a conversation or a campfire with my family and friends.

Every day is a gift, even when feeling ordinary and necessary grief. If we remember to express ourselves and connect with others, we can find meaning and purpose through it all.”

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