"I used to think friendships were like houseplants. Water them occasionally, give them a bit of sunlight, and they'd just keep growing. Boy, was I wrong. A few years ago, I lost a close friend suddenly. No warning, no goodbye. One day we were texting about weekend plans, and three days later I was at his funeral. That loss shook me in ways I'm still processing."
"But those few weeks of uncertainty? They made me look at how I was actually living versus how I thought I was living. The gap was uncomfortable. Now I'm watching my parents' generation navigate their seventies and eighties, and the stories they tell about friendship and aging are nothing like what I expected. My mom's best friend just moved into assisted living. Another family friend is dealing with dementia."
Friendships were assumed to be like houseplants—low-maintenance—until the sudden death of a close friend revealed how neglected some relationships had become. Scrolling through contacts exposed months or years of silence and provoked self-questioning about when outreach stopped. A health scare at forty intensified reflection on living versus assumed living, highlighting an uncomfortable gap. Observing the parents' generation encountering assisted living and dementia made the effects of aging tangible. Reaching out after losing a father uncovered friends dealing with illness, relocation, or personal struggles that hindered connection. Research shows social circles shrink with age, but the emotional jolt of that shrinkage is often unexpected.
Read at Silicon Canals
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