The Unsettling Loss of Friendships as We Age

(Photo: Hansjörg Rath/Unsplash)

I recently posted something on Facebook to the effect that, as we age, the number of friends we have seems to dwindle, and for a number of reasons. The online response was overwhelming surprising, with many from my baby-boomer generation weighing in.

First off, while I think social media is one of the reasons for this—texting, e-mailing, and the like instead of talking or meeting up in person—I will say that Facebook generally is a positive. I have come across many friends from grade school, high school, and college there, as well as folks from various jobs I’ve held over the years. It’s interesting to see the paths in life they have chosen, or, in some cases, have chosen them.

Part of what precipitated my post was the death this year of some of my classmates, in particular Kevin Wagner, class of 1973. Kevin and I had been good friends all through eight years of Catholic school together at St. Mary’s, then for one year at Laurel Junior High School (we had worked together on a prize-winning laser science project), and three years at Laurel High School. I hadn’t seen Kevin since our 50-year LHS reunion in 2023. I did hear that he had cancer then, but to me he looked okay.

Other deaths that have rocked me include three more ‘73 classmates: Bob Goodwin, Steve Garrison, and Scott Grooman. In fact, 55 of my ‘73 graduating class were not present at our reunion due to death.

Another contributing factor to lost friendships is the deep divide politically in this country now, as wide a gap as I’ve seen in my lifetime. The current situation has destroyed relationships in families and with co-workers and friends. The Covid-19 pandemic didn’t help, either, with its two years of isolation.

Something I’m particularly sensitive to—and maybe it’s just me—is the sudden disappearance (they call it “ghosting”) of old friends. Here today, gone tomorrow. The acquaintances I don’t mind so much; it’s the close friends I don’t understand.

Perhaps it’s that they are busy with their kids or grandkids, or are traveling in retirement, but with some I have the unsettled feeling that they can’t get anything more from me. It’s as if, in my later years, I have nothing more to give (I’m a journalist and I’m not rich), or perhaps they sense that I might need something from them, God forbid. Or perhaps I’m just paranoid.

In any case, I guess this is all a sobering part of getting older, but I don’t have to like it. I’m sure I’m guilty of some of this impersonality, too. And, much as I detest birthdays these days, I’ve come to welcome them. I mean, what’s the alternative?

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Jim Clash immerses himself in extreme adventures for Forbes magazine. He graduated from Laurel High School in 1973. His latest book is Amplified: Interviews With Icons of Rock ‘n’ Roll.