One of the things that I’ve noticed about people who are most at ease with the dying process is that they have a good nucleus of support people around them. I bet if I had looked at their life 20 years ago they still would have maintained a group of people around them who shared their values, supported their interests, and wanted them to be successful. Friendships are an important base for any successful person. But as we age, life begins to be about losses, and how we deal with them. No one consciously says I’m going to isolate myself, but it often ends up that way. As our friends die, we don’t replace them, because we get too busy or too tired, and before we know it, we’ve pretty much decided to go it alone. Then things start to gain a momentum on their own, and the cycle of depression, helplessness, and isolation takes on a life of its own.
From a social and emotional standpoint, it’s hard to imagine any death worse than to die alone and unloved, to feel isolated and that your life has been meaningless. In many of these instances it’s because the individual has pushed everyone away and lived their last years as if they needed no one, but sometimes I have seen people feel this isolation while surrounded by loving friends and family. They are trying to offer help and support, but the individual has trouble receiving it because of their own internal feelings of unworthiness. They have guilt over something they did or didn’t do, self-doubt over their worth, and often they refuse offers of help based on these feelings.
A few years ago, there was a story in our local paper that emphasized this very scenario. A man was found in his house, having died almost a week earlier. He wasn’t found by a family member or friend coming to check up on him, but instead by someone in the neighborhood who heard the crying of the cats. When the police came, they found the man but also found over 50 cats. And over the next few days, this became the focus of the story, the cats. How could a man have all of these cats in his house and none of the neighbors even notice? How could they live in all of the filth found inside the house? And, most importantly, what was going to become of these cats? Almost nothing was ever said about the man, and how could he have fallen through the cracks of society, dying alone with no visible social support system. Well within days, there were two groups that deal with cat rescues willing to take and place all of the cats in good homes, but there was never a follow-up story on the man and how this could have happened. All of the remaining stories focused instead on the cats and their well-being.
Maintaining friendships becomes even more important as we age, especially for men. I say especially for men, because men are often the ones who feel that they can be the lone wolf, and don’t need other people. When you get to the point that you can count your friends on one hand, that ought to be a warning signal. And I don’t just mean acquaintances, but real friends. In our society, we’ve almost forgot what it means, and takes, to be a friend. Friends do things together. They stay in contact with each other, even if it’s just to touch base and like they used to say when I was growing up ask, “How’s your mama and them?” We knew what that meant. What’s been going on? How is your family? Friends celebrate with each other, and grieve with each other when it comes time to. There’s an old saying that a friend can halve your sorrow and double your joy. Friends hold each other accountable. They tell each other when they’re getting off course. Friends stand by you even when you’ve done something wrong. But friendship takes work, or it will dissipate. If you want a friend, you have to be a friend. Maintaining a friendship is not as hard as beginning one, but it still takes work and a willingness to spend some time and energy on the relationship.
