Living after Loss: Repaying Old Friends by Sharing their Memories

Taking care of my wife who had dementia for the past 10 years resulted in my withdrawal from outside life. It was a time for complete immersion into the role of caregiver. As a consequence, contact with friends gradually diminished. I had heard many died and others had moved away. In an attempt to re-enter life, I tried to contact one of them only to discover she had died nine years earlier. This was a shock and produced a lot of guilt. I hadn’t been there for her or her friends and family.

It also brought back a lot of memories. She was a brilliant woman, witty, funny, prickly, physically striking, curious, assertive, observant and obviously persistent. She was also a con. She constantly disrupted parties. She always arrived late. She never paid a bill she could get someone else to pay. She never paid full price for anything. She was the kind who would buy an outfit, wear it to her function and return it to the store the next day for a refund. She was a horsewoman and had been Queen of the Rodeo way back when, and she never let anyone forget it.

She always misbehaved at parties and clubs we attended. She irritated people, talked about others and inevitably did things to draw attention to herself.

Always after our Saturday night outings and fun times, we would gather at a friend's house and dissect the previous evening. Someone had stitched a dress and whoever had behaved the worst on Saturday had to wear it all day Sunday. We called it the Pout Dress and I’ll bet you can guess who most frequently had to wear it. After the previous night’s escapades had been discussed and misbehaviors atoned for, a game of volleyball always followed. This friend looked ridiculous in that dress.

This was a time of youth and fun. It was a reprieve from the pressures of work from the past week and preparation for the week ahead. It was a time of friendship and bonding. It was a time to live in the moment.

For a long time prior to my wife's illness, I had kept in touch with this friend, in spite of how bad she was. Most of our earlier friends had abandoned her, but as outrageous as she was, I thought she was a hoot. I would take her to lunch and she would always select the most expensive restaurant and the highest-priced meals. She made several attempts to get me to add her to my medical insurance. One time, unbeknownst to me, she made me her medical power of attorney. I put a stop to that as soon as she told me. I didn’t want to make decisions regarding whether or not she was to be kept alive. I later found out she had died in her sleep. I also found out she was alone.

I couldn’t meet her needs, as complex as they were. I believe everyone has a right to have someone with them as they die, but I couldn’t be that person for her. I could only feel grief and great sorrow at a loss that had occurred many years in the past.

I can, however, remember her because we all have friends who have died and I believe we owe them our memories.

This was not a boost to my journey in re-entering life. It was another loss to be grieved. It was a reality that life went on, or not, while I was immersed in the business of being out of it in order to care for my wife. It did give me a chance to remember former times, and former friends who had died. It gave me joy to recall the experiences of fun and relationships that expanded my life.

I believe that when we are re-entering life, it is important to put things into perspective. We need to revive and release the ghosts in our memories, to embrace the wonderfulness of those times. It is cleansing and a necessary preparation to wipe the slate and let new things into our lives and hearts.

Let me know how you are doing. I care.

Sincerely,

Lynn Brooke

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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau