What impact might the death of a close friend or colleague have on our lives? What level of compassionate understanding are we likely to receive? Is grief after the death of a friend more difficult at different life stages, or just different? Let’s give that some thought.

The recent death of two of my friends is the stimulus for this blog and I invite you to join your thoughts with mine as I think about them and about friendship in general.

Friends are, and always have been, an invaluable part of my life. They are my confidantes, my support system, the people I laugh and cry with. Many began as colleagues and became my closest friends, some are still geographically accessible and others are scattered around the world. I’m grateful on a daily basis for modern technology which allows me to stay connected via email and text messages, no matter what the weather or my state of health. My gratitude for technology was certainly magnified during Covid lockdown as it was for many people.

Three of those geographically distant friends recently spent a magical week with my husband and me and one of the valuable conversations we shared was about friendship. We talked about what it is now we are senior adults, what it meant when we were young, what enabled friendships in the first place and what sustained them. We began and ended that conversation philosophically, so that’s where I’ll start and finish.

We described ideal friendships as intimate, committed, trusting, supportive, reciprocal, honest and respectful relationships, an invaluable support system for most of us throughout our lives. Unlike relatives, our friends are chosen, and for some, when family has been unsupportive or unavailable, friends have actually become ‘chosen family’.

We acknowledged that friends contribute to our personal growth if they give honest responses when we seek their opinion, their advice when invited, or when they constructively challenge our perceptions or beliefs. They celebrate our joys with us and provide compassionate support when life has been tough.

The love the five of us feel for each other, and the depth of trust in our relationships, enabled us to enjoy robust discussions and debates about life issues from breakfast to supper. We work in different roles in the same field so it was inevitable that the subject of death, dying and bereavement eventually became part of our conversational smorgasbord.

Unafraid of emotions, we wondered aloud about how and when each of us might die, and how the others would be affected. This discussion was intimate, intense and emotional as we acknowledged what we would miss and imagined the depth of our grief.

When the emotional intensity subsided we wondered aloud about friendship in general, its meaning for others, how friendships began and the variety of ways they might end. We started at the beginning of life so I’ll do that now.

Friendship in early life

Images of earliest friendships scrolled across the screens of our minds. We remembered babies reaching for each other’s hands in doctors waiting rooms, play groups, mothers groups, and many other communal settings. Some remembered families living closer together than is currently the norm, and in these kinship networks, children forming supportive, lifelong bonds with cousins. We all acknowledged at that point that geography is certainly an important factor in the friendships we form and sustain throughout life, but particularly early in our lives.

Personality is another. Some children are gregarious almost from birth and don’t appear to have any difficulty in making or keeping friends, while others are more reserved and hesitant to make the first move. We talked about the small but significant number of children we knew of who have, or had, imaginary friends, friends who seem to play an important role in providing companionship and in shaping the child’s sense of self.

We wondered what happens to imaginary friends. Do they simply fade away when no longer needed? Do they ever die? And if so, are they grieved? None of us had an imaginary friend so we decided that we’d love to hear from anyone who could enlighten us.

We know that children grieve the ending or weakening of friendship ties when parental circumstances mean a change of location. This can be especially difficult for very young children who are unable to write letters or make phone calls to keep the relationship ‘alive’, and particularly difficult for those whose geographical move was necessitated by a family death. A concurrent loss can be like salt on a raw wound.

We acknowledged that early in our lives parents can have a strong influence on the friends that we make, their disapproval or approval tending to ‘shape’ the nature of desirable characteristics in our friendship ‘shopping list’. As we take more control of our lives, parental approval tends to become less important.

Like all relationships, friendships are vulnerable to the effects of external influences and changing life circumstances. Some friendships last a lifetime while others are only mutually beneficial for a short time. Some just fade away, others end abruptly and sometimes inexplicably, perhaps leaving emotional scars or bruises.

Social influences

Currently, social media has a significant impact on friendships in early life and can be used as a weapon of destruction, gossip and hurtful descriptions directed like guided missiles. Young people reading negative comments about themselves may lack the internal resources necessary to protect their vulnerability and in the worst-case scenario, the impact may end in self-harm.

For older adults, fear about the instability of national and international politics, economic deprivation or sanctions, and disillusionment with religious and other formerly respected leaders, is fanned by daily media reports. Fear tends to stimulate regression and when we regress, many of us may become more black and white in our judgements. Diverse ways of seeing the world that may have previously been stimulating in our friendships can easily become volatile and divisive in a changing social climate.

Friends – living treasures

Many of the grieving people I have counselled over the past half century regret their failure to express love and appreciation to friends, colleagues and partners. Can we all honestly say that we have told friends that we love them while making eye contact?
Have we told them what we appreciate about the contribution they have made to our life? Have we told them what we would miss?

I’ve experienced the death of many friends and feel fortunate that for the majority I had some warning that they would die. Knowing that time was limited provided the impetus to put all cards on the table, to be uninhibited and express thoughts and feelings openly, without reservation. For those few who died suddenly I have some regrets. I’m an expressive person, but even so, in hindsight, there are things I would say with more passion.

True friends are living treasures. As I write these words photos of friends who have died are sitting on my desk and in my bookcase, their lovely smiling faces reminding me of all that we shared. Tears of gratitude and missing fill my eyes, the proverbial ‘liquid love’ as my husband describes them.

Finally, in answer to my opening questions, I believe that the intensity and duration of the pain we feel when a friend dies is determined by the role they play in our lives, no matter what our age. If they are central to our sense of identity and well-being at the time of their death they will leave an empty space that no one else can fill and their loss will be deeply mourned.

A philosophical quote summarizes my belief about the value of friendship.

‘All love that has not friendship for its base
Is like a mansion built upon the sand.
Love, to endure life’s sorrow and earth’s woe,
needs friendship’s solid mason work below.’ Louise J. Miln 1900

If you, children, or young people in your care are grieving the death of a valued friend, counsellors at ‘A Friends’ Place can provide a compassionate, listening ear. Phone 1 300 654 556 or email [email protected]

Or, honour your friend by making a donation to ‘A Friends’ Place’ in their name.

An NCCG Blog
By Dianne McKissock OAM
Co-founder, National Centre for Childhood Grief
August 2025