When Friends Disappear
One of the most painful losses after a major life event is often one nobody talks about. It's the loss of friendships.
Most of us assume the people who’ve been around us for years will remain there when life falls apart. We imagine our friends will know what to say, how to help, and how to stay connected. Sometimes they do. Many times, they don't.
When my daughter Alisha died, I was shocked by how many people disappeared from our lives. Some were acquaintances, but others were people I genuinely believed would be there through the hardest season we'd ever face.
Instead, many seemed to vanish.
Looking back, I don't believe them to be uncaring. I think they were afraid. Child loss is every parent's nightmare. It forces people to confront the reality that terrible things can happen to good families. Some people simply didn't know what to say. Others worried about saying the wrong thing. A few may have believed that bringing up Alisha's name would somehow make things worse.
It often felt as though they thought grief was contagious. If they stayed too close, perhaps some of our tragedy might rub off on them.
Of course, grief doesn't work that way. What grieving people need most is often simple presence. We need someone willing to sit in the discomfort with us. We need people who aren't afraid to remember, listen, and remain.
The silence hurt. So did the absence and the realization that some friendships couldn’t survive our loss.
What surprised me even more was learning that this isn't unique to bereaved parents. Another painful reality many women face is what happens after they become single.
Whether through death, divorce, or other circumstances, many women discover that invitations suddenly become scarce. Families who once welcomed them to dinners, backyard barbecues, holiday gatherings, and social events often stop calling.
Yet those same families may continue inviting single men and widowers. I've watched this happen repeatedly.
A woman who once belonged as part of a couple suddenly finds herself standing on the outside looking in. Sometimes people assume she'd feel uncomfortable. Sometimes they don't know where she fits anymore. Sometimes they simply overlook her.
Whatever the reason, the result can be profound loneliness. God didn’t create us to live isolated lives.
From the beginning, Scripture reminds us of the importance of community. "Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed." (Ecclesiastes 4:9, NLT) We're designed to carry one another's burdens, encourage one another, and walk together through life's joys and sorrows.
When friends disappear, it's easy to become cynical. It's tempting to close our hearts and decide relationships are not worth the risk.
I understand that temptation. But I've also learned something else. Not everyone leaves.
Sometimes the people who remain are not the ones we expected. God often sends people who understand suffering because they’ve walked through it themselves. He provides compassionate listeners, faithful encouragers, and unexpected companions for the journey.
Over the years, I've become deeply grateful for those people. The friends who remember my children and ask how I'm really doing. The friends who don't disappear when life becomes uncomfortable.
Many of us have stood in that same painful place, experiencing the loss of friendships after a major life event. Wondering what happened and why.
Each of us probably know someone who's grieving, widowed, divorced, chronically ill, or carrying a heavy burden. Let's consider making the call. Extend the invitation. Send the text. Pull up a chair at our table.
We don't need perfect words. We simply need to stay.
"Share each other's burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2)
Sometimes the greatest gift we can give another person is our continued presence.
Lord,
Please send someone to support me in my grief. Then teach me how to support others in theirs.
Amen
P.S. What are some ways you’ve been able to help a friend suffering a life circumstance? Please share.
