death

QUESTION

Dear Irene,

My friend and I are very close and she's recently been under a lot of stress. A family member is dying and she is caring for this person. For about two months, she's been unable to listen to anything I say. If I don't agree with her completely, she angrily says I am not listening. No matter what I say, she says I‘m wrong.

 

I've been trying to be the best supportive friend I can be while her relative is dying. I, too, have cared for a dying relative; I know what it's like. However, even my most caring letters are returned correcting whatever I've said.

 

It's not that she's normally an oasis of serenity - she isn't. I usually am the person she can tell anything to, so I have heard all her complaints. Normally, this is okay as it is tempered with humor and two-way conversation. Now, even when I listen actively, reflecting back what she's saying, she angrily corrects me. I realize her behavior is not about me and she's under stress. However, I'm unwilling to be treated this way.

 

Because my friend's in another country and our communications are by email, I want to write a supportive note that sets a boundary. No matter what I say, she'll probably react with anger, but at least I can write something that is respectful of myself and of her.

 

She seems to have lost faith in me and does not presume any goodwill on my part. If that were true, why would she want me in her life? How can I communicate with her in a way so I'm not kicking her when she's down?

Signed,
Wendy

 

ANSWER

Dear Wendy,

No two people experience death in the same way, and even though you've cared for a dying relative, you can't completely understand---especially from afar---how your friend is feeling and what's she's dealing with. Cut your friend some slack; now isn't the time to set boundaries.

 

Your friend seems quick to anger and sensitive to any perceived criticism. You know her peccadilloes and seem to have accepted them. Yet, as you've witnessed, a person's worst tendencies can be exaggerated under stress.

 

Continue to offer your friend support by way of brief, regular emails but refrain from offering any unsolicited advice at this time or telling her that you know what she's going through. This is likely to be a temporary blip in your relationship that will resolve itself. If it doesn't, you can work it out later when she's back on her feet.

Best,
Irene

 

Previously on The Friendship Blog:

A Final Friendship Disappointment 

 

It's rare that I simply gush over books but I fell in love with Gail Caldwell's newest book: Let's Take The Long Way Home: A Memoir of Friendship (Random House, 2010). As sleepy as I was reading the last pages in bed, I didn't want the book to end and it's one of those books I'll read over and over again.

When someone is crunched for time, as most of us are, why take the long way anywhere instead of a shortcut? If you've ever been lucky enough to feel so close and so comfortable with a friend that you never have enough time to spend together, you'll understand why and you'll resonate to the story of the powerful bonds between the author and her best friend, Caroline Knapp.

The book begins, "It's an old, old story: I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that, too." While the loss of a best friend to Stage IV lung cancer sounds maudlin, it's only incidental to the beautiful story of love and connection that is the essence of this book.

An accomplished writer, recovering alcoholic, rower, dog lover, private person, single, and self-described introvert, Caldwell was 46 years old when she met Knapp, who was 37. In mid-life, they both found kindred spirits whose lives had many parallels.

 

"Finding Caroline was like placing a personal ad for an imaginary friend, then having her show up at your door funnier and better than you had conceived. Apart we had each been frightened drunks and aspiring writers and dog lovers; together, we became a small corporation," writes Caldwell. The two became part of each other's family of choice. The mix of similarities and differences both anchored the friendship and enriched their relationships with the larger world around them, personal and professional.

What Caldwell does best is to describe the indescribable, finding words that aptly translate the essence of friendship for those of us who often fumble trying to do so. Her prose is simply beautiful and her wisdom so insightful that it leaves the reader with indelible memories and life lessons.

She reflects on her first misunderstanding with her friend as a "testing ground and gateway for intimacy." Later, she writes about the friendship: "Our trust allowed for a shorthand that let us get to the point quickly." Characterizing their changed relationship when her best friend becomes critically ill, she describes it as a "choreography of silence." Despite its poignant ending, the Caldwell-Knapp friendship will make you envious---but it will also help you realize that friendships like this are, indeed, possible.

Caldwell writes after Knapp's death, "I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures." The same might be said about how the reader will emerge after reading this touching memoir of friendship.

A former chief book critic of the Boston Globe, Gail Caldwell is also the author of A Strong West Wind and was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Distinguished Criticism in 2001.

 

Friendship by the Book is an occasional series of posts on The Friendship Blog about books that offer friendship lessons.

 

Several other recent posts on The Friendship Blog touched upon the topic of losing a best friend. These include:

On losing a best friend

When the loved one who dies is a friend

Talking about friendship with NYT best-selling author Jane Green

 

Listen to author Gail Caldwell talk about her book: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnqfBMCU6o8&feature=player_embedded

QUESTION

Dear Dr. Levine,

My dearest best friend of 35 years died in March. She had Alzheimer's disease, so it had been several years since I was able to have a conversation with her, but I could still visit and see her. Her death has devastated me.

 

Before she became ill, we spoke almost every day, and often met for a cup of coffee, lunch, shopping, visiting a museum, or seeing a show, etc. She wrote a book that is carried by many museums, and we used to get a kick out of seeing it in their bookshops. We lived only 15 minutes apart. Our husbands even liked each other.

 

We shared so many things: a love of art, literature, humor, clothes, gossip, and much more. In all those years, we never had a fight---maybe a slight disagreement, but never a fight. I now feel bereft and totally alone, even though I am happily married and have other friends. Of those I have, no one can come near to replacing her. My husband understands my loss, but can't fill that empty space.

 

I have kind of resigned myself to knowing that I will never have a friendship again with that kind of width and depth. It's not a matter of not having other friends. I just have little desire to be with them. When my best friend was alive, I didn't mind spending some time with other friends also, but now, I have little desire to. When I do, it feels like I'm just "making do", and I feel terrible for even thinking that. How does one readjust from this kind of loss? Or, maybe you just don't.

Sincerely,
Lindsay

 

ANSWER

Dear Lindsay.

It sounds like you found and lost a kindred spirit in your friend. Given all the experiences and emotions you shared, there must be constant reminders of the friendship---tinged with even greater sadness because you watched your friend slowly deteriorate.

 

Perhaps, you need to allow yourself a fallow period before you can reach out to other friends. When you do feel like being with other women (which you will), resist the temptation to compare other friendships to this one.

 

Remember that each friendship is unique and this one-of-a-kind friendship has helped you become the person---and the friend---you are today. You are fortunate that you have savored what few others have in a lifetime. More pleasant memories will surface when the sadness recedes with time.

 

One other thought to consider: If your sadness isn't confined to your friendships and you've lost interest in things that were once pleasurable, you may be feeling depressed. Sometimes depression manifests itself as a sense of hopelessness; difficulties concentrating; or changes in sleep patterns, appetite, or energy levels. (Click here to see more about the signs and symptoms of depression). If this is the case, talking to a mental health professional might help you get over the hump.

 

Recovering from the death or a loved one is never easy. In this case, the difficulty may be compounded because few others can understand the closeness of your friendship and the pain of your loss.

My thoughts are with you.

Warmest regards,
Irene

According to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, about 15-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, usually within the first 13 weeks of pregnancy. For the woman who has miscarried, this can be a difficult time emotionally, both in coping with the loss and thinking about its impact on her marriage and her ability to conceive in the future. Even among the best of friends, it's hard for a friend to know what to say or how best to provide support to someone who is grieving the loss.

 

In 1981, Robbie Miller Kaplan gave birth to two children: a son Aaron, in January and a daughter Amy, in December. Both babies died in infancy from the same heart defect. It is her own experiences with loss as well as a passion to make a difference with others that motivated her to write a book on effective communication during difficult times.

 

Robbie is a writer, speaker, and founder of The Comforting Words website. She is the author of nine books, including  How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say: The Right Words for Difficult Times, available in volumes on Miscarriage, Illness & Death, and e-books on Death of a Newborn and Stillborn Baby, and Death of a Child. I recently interviewed Robbie on the topic of miscarriage.

 

Irene:

What makes miscarriages so painful emotionally?

Robbie:

A miscarriage is a death in the family and just like any death, the bereaved must grieve for the loved one they've lost. Miscarriages are extremely painful because the mom and dad loved their baby and yet the parents will never have the chance to have this beloved child as a part of their lives. All their hopes and dreams will never come to fruition. If they have other children, those children will never take the place of the precious baby they've lost.

 

Irene:

How is this compounded when a woman has had more than one miscarriage?

Robbie:

Not only is the mom grieving for her loss, but the physical aspects of pregnancy have taken a toll on her health. Her body has gone through physical and hormonal changes and she has had to repeatedly recover. If she has no children, she might also fear that she will never have children. Once she recovers from the miscarriage, if she wants to try again, she has to get healthy and strong enough to sustain another pregnancy.

 

Irene:

What can a friend say or do to comfort someone who has recently miscarried?

Robbie:

It's important to acknowledge the loss. You should treat your friend just like you would treat any loved one who has had a family member die. Send a bouquet of flowers, write a heartfelt note, or bring a meal. One of the most caring things you can do is offer to visit and listen. Let your friend share their feelings and allow them to do the talking. One mom said the nicest thing her friend did was to repeat some of what she said back to her; that way, she knew her friend was really listening.

 

Irene:

How can you handle being pregnant when your best friend just miscarried?

Robbie:

This is a tough one. Loss is very isolating so it's important that you keep in touch; if you stay away, you'll isolate your friend even more. Have a conversation with your friend and be honest; share that you understand this is a difficult situation. Let your friend set the parameters; ask her to let you know what's comfortable for her and what's not. As much as your friend might love you, there are aspects of your pregnancy and your excitement that will bring her pain. It's important to be sensitive to her feelings.

 

Irene:

How can a good friend ease the anxiety of pregnancy after miscarriage?

Robbie:

Communication is so important. Let your friend know you are available to listen and when she wants to share or vent, give her your undivided attention. Everyone needs an outlet, so be her outlet. What doesn't help is making unrealistic comments, such as, "This time it's going to be okay" or, "I'm sure this time it will work."

 

Irene:

If you are the one who has miscarried, what can you say to make it more comfortable for your friends?

Robbie:

When you're feeling so bad, it's a lot of pressure to try to pull yourself together to make things more comfortable for your friends. And yet most of us downplay how we really feel so we don't make our friends and loved ones feel uncomfortable. If you have just miscarried, you might say to your friends, "There are a few things that would make me feel better if you'd like to help." And then share those things, whether it's a cup of coffee and companionship, company to your next obstetrical appointment, or a home cooked meal. If you want your friends to support you, sometimes you need to take the initiative and let know just how they can help you.

The Unfaithful Widow is a collection of essays by Barbara Barth, describing her first year alone after her husband's death. "I blush to say that everything in the book happened to me, or rather I did it all, " says Barbara. "Saying I did it all has more power to it, which is the message in my book." I spoke to Barbara about the role that friendships played during that life-changing year.

 

Irene: Losing a life partner turns a woman's life upside down; how does it affect her friendships?

Barbara: When my husband died it was amazing how my friends looked after me. A bit of my background history may explain that statement. I am not the type of gal who went off for weekends with girlfriends. I never had a roommate. And when I was single I preferred to drive myself to parties so I could leave when I wanted. However, I am very social and love people. I have to head out of the house every day for a small adventure, and then come home to my nest.

My husband and I were rarely apart for the twenty-five years we were a couple. I was home with him most nights. After I retired from my federal job, I became an antique dealer. I lunched with my antique buddies during the day and several of us set up at antique shows. My best friend was also his good friend, his tomboy friend he liked to call her. So I had my best friend, my close antique buddies, and many women in the antique business I knew casually.

My best friend was my lifeline. I can't tell you how many times a day I'd call her. My antique buddies stayed close. The surprise was that the other women I knew from the antique world rallied around me. Suddenly I was in a social whirl of lunches and dinners. I turned 60 three months after my husband died, and my friends gave me a wonderful week of celebration. A friend of mine that I knew for twenty years as an antique dealer said one night over dinner, "There are angels that come into your life when needed. Sometimes they stay, sometimes they move on. I hope I am one that stays." My friend was right. I was well protected by angels my first year.

 

Irene: Did your friendships remain stable or did your find that the type of friends you wanted to be with or felt comfortable with changed?

Barbara: My friend who I mentioned above has become one of the angels that stayed. We have dinner every few weeks and have a ball. She has a guy at home, but comes out to play at night. We aren't out late because I have dogs at home to feed. Some of the other angels have gone back to their own lives, but will forever be in my heart for being there at a time I was so lost.

My friends and I are very open with each other. Nothing I tell them shocks them. We laugh about everything and they accept the changes in me. They don't judge my choices. Most are married. Sometimes I think it would be nice to find other single women to do things with, but I am still that homebody at heart.

My husband's cousin kids me that for someone who talks about wanting to date I have put up barriers - six dogs. But they are so much company. I have chosen to write in this new life of mine and that is isolating so I have to work harder to get out and be social. When I say I haven't done anything my friends laugh. I've usually done more than anyone, but I have a high level of energy and need to stay active.

I feel as comfortable with my old friends as I always have. I am not in that world of married women fearing suddenly single women. My friends and I are as we always were. That has not changed.

 

Irene: What are the ways in which girlfriends can support a woman who is recently widowed?

Barbara: Pick up the phone and call. Call again. That was the most important thing for me. I needed to have human contact. Sometimes it is hard to know what to say to someone who has had a loss. Don't worry about it. I didn't care what anyone said. I just needed to hear a voice. To know someone was thinking about me.

I remember years ago when I was a kid I read somewhere that if you visit someone who lives alone, let her talk, don't take over the conversation. I never thought it would apply to me. But it did. I was surrounded by silence in my house.

I remember the night "Sex In The City" had its premier. Two of my antique buddies had planned for us to go. I fell asleep on the couch, depressed. The phone rang three times in twenty minutes. The fourth ring I picked it up. My friends shouted at me, "Wake up, Sex In The City. Picking you up in twenty minutes." I threw water on my face, dabbed on some lip gloss and was ready when they pulled up. We had a ball. I would have languished on the couch that night without their pushing me to get out.

 

Irene: What are some of the ways in which girlfriends can grate upon you are feeling vulnerable?

Barbara: I guess I was lucky, still am, with the friends I have. If I had someone question what I was doing, made me feel guilty, that would have been horrible. My friends all encouraged me to do what I needed to do. When I started dating we all laughed at my bad dates. I am a good storyteller, but my friends laughed with me, not at me. Big difference.

 

Irene: Did you join any support groups or connect with other widows? If so, what was that like?

Barbara: I decided to find my own way. I didn't want to go to a support group and I didn't want to talk to other widows. I was afraid it would depress me more. I was at a bookstore with my best friend and wandered into the self-help section and pulled out a "widow" book. It depressed me. The author talked about women my age starting to date again after a long relationship and all the pitfalls. That was another yuck moment.

I started writing at night to purge myself. I danced at night to my favorite music. Bad dates led me to good things. I felt the universe was sending me signs and I kept moving forward. My book is about all the oddities of that year. I found that laughter was the best medicine. I think that support groups can be very helpful. I just couldn't deal with going to one. I didn't want to be around people who had suffered a loss, I wanted to be in the middle of life.

 

Irene: Dogs play a big part in the story of your first year. Can pets substitute for friends or companions?

Barbara: I am a dog lover. Always have been. I now have six, five from the local shelters in the last year. Perhaps I have gone overboard. But they are so much fun. My dogs are not substitutes for friends but are a special part of my life. I can't imagine not having a pet. They make me laugh. They teach me lessons about life. They show me that love is more important than a good rug.

They helped me find joy again. They are my writing muses. I think anyone can benefit from the unconditional love a pet gives you. My book has a dedication to animal rescue shelters and my favorite quote, "I like to think that I have rescued dogs, truth is they have rescued me."

 

Irene: Any other advice to widows about friendships?

Barbara: I was always focused on the fact I needed to talk to someone. One day I called a good friend, embarrassed to be on the phone yet again. It turned out she was in worse shape than I was and it was good I had called. I think being alone, being a widow, makes you feel vulnerable you are imposing on others. The truth is we all need the support of our friends and should not be afraid to make that first move.

 

Friendship by the Book is an occasional series of posts on The Friendship Blog about books that offer friendship lessons.

Follow The Friendship Doctor on Twitter.

 

 

Regular readers of The Friendship Blog may have noticed that I was AWOL for the last week. That was because my mother passed away on May 12th. While her health had been declining rapidly and it wasn't completely unexpected, the death of a loved one always slows you down as you take stock of both the richness and fragility of life. I am so appreciative of the support of my own family and friends who descended like angels to embrace me and help me through this difficult passage.

 

My mother, Helen, and her best friend, Belle, are pictured here. They remained lifelong friends until my mom was no longer physically able to speak to Belle on the phone. My mother was extraordinarily social throughout her life and had a knack for making friends, even with strangers.

 

Irene

QUESTION

Dear Irene,

I met my friend on the commute to work and have known her now for 10 years. We also socialized outside of the commute. She is 17 years older than me but the age difference has never been a problem. She was terminated from her job (after 20 years) at age 62. Just before this, her ex-husband (who she did not like) died suddenly.

 

I reached out to her during the months after her job loss. She went into a depression and became very paranoid and weird. Finally after six months she seems to be turning her life around. However she makes no effort to email or phone me. Is there any way to get the friendship back or has it run its course?

Signed,
Cassie

 

ANSWER

Dear Cassie,

Losing a job and a husband at once (whether or not she liked them) is tough for any woman, especially at the age of social security eligibility. If your friend feels any embarrassment about being fired, she may have a hard time facing people she knew through her employment. It was kind, and appropriate, of you to reach out to her and she may be embarrassed that she wasn't able to respond sooner.

 

Or, having been through a tremendous emotional upheaval in her life, she may simply be focused on getting back on her feet---with less time available for socializing. Write her a brief note and tell her that you're thinking of her, that you would love to get together for coffee if she has the time. If she doesn't respond, you'll know that the friendship isn't viable for now.

Hope this helps~

Best,
Irene

QUESTION:

Dear Irene,

 

How does one get over being so alone? I do have a few very good friends, but too few! I am dying of loneliness! I don't know what's wrong with me that I can't seem to "connect" and make new friends. I don't want to die alone too! I'm turning 60 this year. Any suggestions?? Many thanks!

Signed,
Laura

 

ANSWER:

Hi Laura,

 

Your question obviously follows my last post mentioning two tragic news stories recently published about older women who died alone without anyone noticing for some time. The imagery was chilling and most people would hate to think of dying that way.

 

Admittedly, there are times when it is tougher than others to make new friends. For example, college students are continually thrown into contact with other people in similar circumstances. Young moms can take advantage of abundant opportunities to make friends with parents of their kids or with other women involved in school committees. If someone's working, she might become friends with colleagues. You haven't told me much about you but it sounds like you're at a place in life where you need to actively seek out friendships because it isn't occurring naturally.

 

Making friends is more a matter of circumstances than age, per se. Unless there is something about you that pushes others away, if you follow your interests and remain actively involved with people, you will be able to replenish your stock of friends. The choice is yours: Get involved with cultural, political, or social groups. Join a gym, book club, cooking club, or take a class. Volunteer in your community at the library or hospital. If you have a dog, start up a conversation with another dog walker on your route. Dogs and new babies are always great conversation-starters.

 

One caveat: Don't expect too much too soon. Friendships take time but if you are welcoming to potential friends and pursue your own passions, you'll be able to turn new acquaintances into deep friendships over time. If you come across as desperate or clingy, it might be a turnoff to a future friend-to-be.

 

Being aware of your loneliness and that you want close friendships is an important first step. I hope this is helpful.

Warm regards,
Irene

Recently, there were two chilling news reports of older women, one who had been living in New York and another in South Carolina, who died alone in their homes---without anyone knowing. Hearing the circumstances, I couldn't help but wonder whether their lives had been cut short because they had no friends to buoy their spirits or to help them manage their lives. A 10-year study of people over the age of 70 in Australia suggests that this might be the case. The researchers found that friends are more important than family in conferring longevity, and that people with an extensive network of good friends outlive those with the fewest friends by 22 percent.

 

These are the two stories in brief: Jane Wild, a 78-year-old retired schoolteacher, was found dead on February 4th in a bathroom on the second floor of her home in Chappaqua, New York, an upscale hamlet of 6500 households. Describing her as a recluse, the police thought she might have been dead for at least six months when they found her. Wild's mailbox was stuffed and her utilities had already been turned off. But no one knew she had died until her attorney tried to reach her, unsuccessfully, and notified the police. "It's just sad she died by herself and that nobody even missed her enough to call about checking on her," said Detective Sgt. James Wilson of the New Castle Police who are still searching for next of kin.

 

This week, some 800 miles away, Juanita Goggins, 75, also a former schoolteacher, who earned the distinction of becoming the first black woman elected to the South Carolina Legislature in 1974, was found frozen to death at home. Born to sharecroppers, Goggins also became the first black female to be appointed to the U.S. Civil Rights Commission. Her landlord had noticed that the lights in her house, which was only four miles from the State capitol, hadn't been turned on for a couple of weeks. She, too, was described as a loner. Her son said that his mother suffered from an undiagnosed mental disorder for the last decade of her life and refused any help from family or neighbors. Neither Wild nor Goggins appear to have been indigent.

 

Unfortunately, many older people lead isolated lives for a variety of reasons: physical, emotional, and situational. One report estimated that as many as two million of the nine million Americans over the age of 65 who live alone say they have no one to turn to for help. There are no simple answers and, hopefully, more will be learned about the lives and deaths of these two women. Yet, we often don't take notice of the person who lives alone in the apartment or house next door. It's natural to feel awkward about intruding into someone else's space but perhaps stories like this will inspire individuals and communities to think twice.

 

For discussion: Could you live without friends?

As soon as my brother-in-law learned that my mother's health was declining, Don responded by putting her on his Saturday morning "call list." Every weekend, Don places calls to a growing list of friends and relatives who are housebound, lonely, and/or ill. His uplifting phone calls aren't obligatory. He calls because he cares and is genuinely interested in listening to people and helping them solve or better cope with their problems.

 

Some people live very lonely lives. Last week a 78-year-old retired New York City schoolteacher, named Jane Wild, who lived in a white Cape Cod in my own hamlet (Chappaqua, New York) was found dead in her second-floor bathroom. The local newspaper reported that Wild was a recluse with few friends and no family except for a sister who lived with her, until she died in 1985. Since then, Jane was only known to have received occasional visits from a male friend, who died last summer. What made the story all the more remarkable was that Jane Wild had been dead for at least six months before anyone even noticed---this, despite the fact that her utilities had been turned off and mail had accumulated to the point where her mailbox was so stuffed that the mailman stopped delivering. No neighbors had thought to check on her.

 

Like hand-penned letters, the number of phone calls being made is decreasing relative to other types of electronic communications. There was a time---before email and faxes---when many workers had long "call lists" on their desks with the names of colleagues they planned to contact the next morning. Now people are more likely to text, IM, tweet, or use email, depending on their age and personal preference. The contact may take place while they are walking down a city street, or riding in a car or train. People tend to multi-task rather than listen to the person at the other end of the phone with full attention.

 

Phone calls, even perfunctory ones, may have already become altogether passé. My twenty-something son, like a growing number of Americans doesn't own a landline. He recently told me that he rarely initiates cell phone calls (yes, he still gets them from me!) except when there's a problem with his bank account or cable TV.

 

Yet a simple phone call with a warm voice at the other hand can change a person's day. I'm amazed at how Don's phone calls can perk up my mom's spirits, albeit for a short time. It makes you wonder if each of us should have a Saturday morning "call list" to express our affection for the people we truly care about.