loss

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.

 

 

Every Last One (Random House, 2010) is a beautifully written, gripping novel by Pulitzer Prize winning columnist and author Anna Quindlen. Told in the first-person, Mary Beth Latham is a mom of three teens, who is married to an ophthalmologist. She works as a part-time landscaper in her small town but is totally devoted to her children. Then the family endures an unimaginable tragedy one New Year's Eve that shatters the routines of their comfortable world, dividing Mary Beth's life into before and after.

 

Quindlen's layered depiction of marriage, home, children and friendship are so authentic that you feel like her characters might be the family next door. What I found most provocative about this haunting story, however, was the author's ability to describe the invisible boundaries and "vows of silence" that characterize our relationships with family and friends. Like many moms, Mary Beth wrestles with when she should "mother' and when she should allow her growing teens to make their own decisions. After the tragedy, Mary Beth says, "Small talk feels too small; big talk too enormous." The book reminds the reader that words unsaid can powerfully affect our lives and relationships.

 

Are there "words unsaid" that have affected a close friendship of yours?

 

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

QUESTION

 

Dear Irene,

I am 51 years old, married 28 years, with 3 grown kids. I work at a gym as a personal trainer/spinning instructor. I quickly became friends with a woman 10 years younger who moved here from another state. She is 40 years old, single, without any kids, and had been in a verbally abusive relationship with a guy.

 

Her enthusiasm and motivation for spinning and weight training were the same as mine and we began to really like each other's company. She and I would grab a bite to eat for dinner one or two times a week after class, which both of us enjoyed. Since she likes to cook, many nights she would come over after a spin/yoga class and cook for my husband and I, and our son who is still in high school. She became a fast and furious friend and called herself my sister. People believed her because we kind of look alike!

 

Here is the fallout. I introduced her to a client who I personal train who is single, 57 years old (but looks 47). This person is energetic and has her own real estate business. She is witty, funny and very likeable, and knows many people in this town. My friend took a liking to her immediately and the three of us would go out for dinner after yoga/spin. That was OK with me, but as time went on I could see that my friend was becoming more interested in my client.

 

My friend loves to get all dressed up on weekends and parties at a very exclusive club in our town. She asked both of us to come one night. It was a total singles hang out! I was not interested in meeting men that were only looking for a one-night stand. I had a horrible time but my friend enjoyed all the attention she was getting from these men and started going with my client every weekend. (I usually do things anyway with my husband on the weekends).

 

Their friendship progressed to get-togethers that didn't include me. My client basically took my friend away from me. The client was cancelling her sessions for training consistently, so I told her to just quit. Then she became angry with me for taking her off my schedule.

 

My friend and I have not spoken to one another in over a week. She used to text me 5-6 times a day so to go from this to no communication at all is weird. There is more to this story, but I just gave you the basics. I am very hurt as I write this. How can I start to accept who she is and move on from here? I have not tried to contact her. I just can't right now and maybe never! Thank you for taking the time to read this and hopefully responding. I appreciate it.

Signed,
Monica

 

ANSWER

 

Dear Monica,

It's painful to lose friends---and disturbing to lose clients. The two happened simultaneously for you. What was particularly hurtful was that both these relationships ended awkwardly without communication.

 

Your friend came to a new town and was skilled at making new friends. First, she bonded with you over your common interest in spinning/weight training. Then she got involved with your client, who in addition to sharing an interest in spinning was also interested in meeting men.

 

Let's separate the two hurts: In terms of your friend, she was a bit opportunistic in ditching you when she found your client. Friends don't own each other so you can't really blame her for forming a friendship with someone to whom you introduced her. However, it wasn't nice of her to simply dump and replace you. At this point, you need to evaluate how you feel about your friend. If you want to resurrect your friendship, you will need to discuss what happened.

 

In terms of your client, the realtor, she may have begun to feel uncomfortable in her sessions with you because she knew you were upset about her relationship with your friend. Cancelling sessions may have been an easy way for her to avoid you. When you simply took her off your schedule, without talking about it, you raised the stakes.

 

As uncomfortable as discussions like these may be, they could have averted the "fallout." Your workplace offers a perfect opportunity to meet women who share your interests but becoming friends with a client also carries risks. If you live in a small town and are concerned about your reputation, you may want to offer each client a free spinning session to let them know you would welcome working with them again professionally.

Hope this helps!

Best,
Irene

QUESTION

 

Hi Irene,

I'm so happy to have found your blog and discovered your book. I will definitely be running out and buying a copy!

 

A very close, cherished friendship that I've had for 14 years has just come to a painful end, and I'm heartbroken. I wish there was a way to repair it, but I know it takes two to work on a relationship and my friend really did and said some things that damaged our relationship and my trust in her beyond repair. Still, having said that, I wish things had not unfolded as they did, and I certainly wish I could undo whatever my role in the demise was (although I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, and really believe I only played a small role in it coming to an end).

 

It's been about two months now. What continues to pain me is the horrible last words exchanged between us. I certainly expressed my anger and hurt to her but I was careful to avoid attacking her character outright or name-calling her, or permanently burning bridges between us. On the other hand, she attacked me personally and said some downright nasty things that were so over-the-top they were obviously designed to wound.

 

We had been like sisters who loved each other for years-so to end on such hostile, borderline-hateful terms seems wrong and sad. I know we can't be close friends anymore, but I hate being haunted by the memory of our last conversation, and having that go down as the last one in the history book of our friendship (which had many loving, fun times through the years). I'm wondering if there is a way to temporarily be in touch just to end on better terms. I don't know if that even makes sense!

 

Thanks!

Penny

 

ANSWER

Dear Penny,

I'm sorry that you felt so betrayed that you had to end your friendship. Whether the decision was hers, yours, or mutual, this has to be a painful loss and it sound like you are reluctant to let go.

 

In terms of the harsh words exchanged between you: When people are hurt and upset, they often lash out and say things out of anger that don't represent their true feelings. I'm not sure you can go back and change what happened, either the events that ended the friendship or the words that were uttered during the blowup. However, it sounds like you want to try and are willing to forgive your friend to some extent.

 

Since it has been two months since your last encounter, your friend's anger probably has dissipated and a calmer, less hostile conversation may, indeed, be possible. Let her know that you aren't happy with the way things ended and that you'd like another chance to discuss the problems you've had in a more positive manner. You'll probably be able to tell by her response whether or not this is possible.

 

To do this, it may be best to write your friend a note expressing your feelings and desire to get together. This will give her time to reflect on your request and on what happened between you so she isn't caught off guard. If you want to rekindle your relationship, you can also mention that you are open to that.

 

Since you were such close friends, I doubt that she is happy with the way your friendship ended either. I hope you can have a meaningful discussion that either allows you to become friends again or to walk away leaving each of you feeling more whole. It won't be easy but you seem to be motivated.

 

Hope this is helpful.

Sincerely,
Irene

 

QUESTION

 

Hi Irene,

I'm so happy to have found your blog and discovered your book. I will definitely be running out and buying a copy!

 

A very close, cherished friendship that I've had for 14 years has just come to a painful end, and I'm heartbroken. I wish there was a way to repair it, but I know it takes two to work on a relationship and my friend really did and said some things that damaged our relationship and my trust in her beyond repair. Still, having said that, I wish things had not unfolded as they did, and I certainly wish I could undo whatever my role in the demise was (although I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, and really believe I only played a small role in it coming to an end).

 

It's been about two months now. What continues to pain me is the horrible last words exchanged between us. I certainly expressed my anger and hurt to her but I was careful to avoid attacking her character outright or name-calling her, or permanently burning bridges between us. On the other hand, she attacked me personally and said some downright nasty things that were so over-the-top they were obviously designed to wound.

 

We had been like sisters who loved each other for years-so to end on such hostile, borderline-hateful terms seems wrong and sad. I know we can't be close friends anymore, but I hate being haunted by the memory of our last conversation, and having that go down as the last one in the history book of our friendship (which had many loving, fun times through the years). I'm wondering if there is a way to temporarily be in touch just to end on better terms. I don't know if that even makes sense!

 

Thanks!

Penny

 

ANSWER

Dear Penny,

I'm sorry that you felt so betrayed that you had to end your friendship. Whether the decision was hers, yours, or mutual, this has to be a painful loss and it sound like you are reluctant to let go.

 

In terms of the harsh words exchanged between you: When people are hurt and upset, they often lash out and say things out of anger that don't represent their true feelings. I'm not sure you can go back and change what happened, either the events that ended the friendship or the words that were uttered during the blowup. However, it sounds like you want to try and are willing to forgive your friend to some extent.

 

Since it has been two months since your last encounter, your friend's anger probably has dissipated and a calmer, less hostile conversation may, indeed, be possible. Let her know that you aren't happy with the way things ended and that you'd like another chance to discuss the problems you've had in a more positive manner. You'll probably be able to tell by her response whether or not this is possible.

 

To do this, it may be best to write your friend a note expressing your feelings and desire to get together. This will give her time to reflect on your request and on what happened between you so she isn't caught off guard. If you want to rekindle your relationship, you can also mention that you are open to that.

 

Since you were such close friends, I doubt that she is happy with the way your friendship ended either. I hope you can have a meaningful discussion that either allows you to become friends again or to walk away leaving each of you feeling more whole. It won't be easy but you seem to be motivated.

 

Hope this is helpful.

Sincerely,
Irene

 

There is no pain greater than the loss of a child. Parents who have suffered such a tragedy say that they never get over it; at best, they get through it. Lynn Bozof of Atlanta, Georgia, lost her son Evan when he was 20. A junior at Georgia Southwestern University, Evan was an honor student and a pitcher on his college baseball team. Below Lynn shares her experience of how the friends she made through a support group helped her cope with this unimaginable loss.

 

Can you briefly tell us about the circumstances leading to Evan's death in 1998?

 

Evan was away at school when he complained of a horrible headache, the worst he'd ever had. He was nauseated and couldn't hold anything down. We told him to get a friend to take him to the emergency room. When he arrived at the ER, the doctors thought he had a virus but kept him overnight so that he could get some extra rest.

 

I called my son about 7AM the next day but he was too sick to talk. I had the nurse put the phone up to his ear and asked if he wanted us to pick him up to come home for the weekend. He did. Before we could even leave home, we received a call from the hospital saying that Evan had meningococcal meningitis and was in critical condition.

 

When you get a phone call like this, your mind can't fully absorb what you're being told. My husband and I drove three hours to see Evan, not knowing if he would be alive when we got there. A few hours later, the doctors transferred him to a larger hospital, better equipped to handle bacterial meningitis. As he was taken to the ambulance, I told him, "Love you, Evan." As weak and sick as he was, he said, "Love you, Mom." Those were the last words he said to us.

 

Before long, all of his organs started to shut down. His fingers, his toes, his ears, and his nose all turned black, then his entire hands and feet, and the gangrene kept spreading up his limbs. We watched Evan fight to breathe, fight to live. Two weeks later, he was transferred to a third hospital. His arms had to be amputated above the elbows and his legs above the knees. We signed consent forms allowing the doctors to amputate as much as was necessary to save his life. Several days later, he had grand mal seizures for 10 hours that caused irreversible brain swelling, leaving him brain-dead.

 

Our son Evan, whom we loved more than we can ever put into words, had to be disconnected from the machines that were keeping him alive. He was placed in a body bag in front of our eyes.

 

Were your friends at home a source of solace and support after the death? How did they react?

 

Many friends offered support and were great, but some tried to avoid me. They probably didn't know how to handle it. I felt different and alone, as if were wearing a sign, "Mother who lost her son." Not only was I dealing with grief-but also somehow I felt guilty that I had allowed this to happen.

 

After Evan's death, what drew you and your husband to get involved with a support group?

 

At that time, my husband and I never knew that college students were at increased risk for meningitis. When we found out that a meningitis vaccine existed, we realized that our son didn't have to die. And if we didn't know about the vaccine, we were sure there were other parents who didn't know either.

 

We met other parents who had similar stories: The common denominator was that none of us knew that this disease was potentially vaccine-preventable. To have more of an impact, we banded together to form a national organization, the National Meningitis Association (NMA). Along the way, I met other moms, never knowing how closely our shared tragedies would bond us together.

 

Can you describe the special bond between you and other Meningitis Moms? Do you consider them friends?

 

There's a line from a Charles Dickens book, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Losing a child is, by far, the worst of times; there is nothing worse. For me, the "best of times" came into being with the wonderful friendships I formed within NMA, especially with a group we call Moms on Meningitis (M.O.M.s).

 

Meningitis swoops down and robs you of someone you love. Friends can empathize and share your grief, but there's something so pernicious about the infection -- its relentlessness, the way it invades your child's body -- which only a mom who has gone through it, can understand. Through this common bond, we formed great friendships. We've laughed together, cried together, shared stories of children and grandchildren. We were tied together at first by grief, then by determination to not let this happen to other families. In the process, many of us became close friends.

 

Have you learned any lessons about female friendship through your family's tragedy?

 

I've learned that when you find friends, as bad as things may seem, you aren't alone. I know that when my feelings of grief start to overwhelm me, that I can reach out to one of the moms, and share my feelings. She isn't going to think I'm "overdoing it" or that it's time to "get over it." They know what I'm going through.

 

Just today, I "facebooked" another mom who is going through a holiday slump. While you miss your child each and every day, certain times of the year, when you expect your whole family to be together, the loss seems greater. I said that I was going through a slump, too, and just knowing that each of us wasn't alone, made us both feel better and feel closer. While I don't want anyone else to lose someone they love to meningitis and become a part of our support group, I'm very grateful for the friendships I've formed while dealing with the loss of my child.

 

* Lynn Bozof has been the President of the National Meningitis Association since 2002.

* After writing several magazine articles about meningococcal disease and meeting the moms, the author joined the volunteer NMA Advisory Committee.

 

Information about meningococcal disease

Information about the National Meningitis Association

Information about the M.O.M.s program