Q3, 2020

When we think of emotional support, we think of loved ones. Generally, family comes immediately to mind. Besides our own instinctive assumptions, our service providers and institutions typically also assume that families – spouses, children, siblings – will step in if their older members need support. That is just the way it is in a society where an ethos of individualism and familism dominates. Friends come second – and a distant second at that.

Research shows, however, that friends are important, particularly for women as they age. Those in heterosexual marriages tend to outlive their husbands so cannot count on their support in their later years. Research suggests, too, that while children may be important, their support is not like that of peers and friends when it comes to enhancing feelings of well-being. Of course, these dynamics and patterns may change in the future as divorce, same sex relationships and life expectancy predictions modify family forms. For the moment, though, women over 60 cannot rely on family members being around in their later years.

Having taught courses about women and aging (gerontology if you like) for most of my career, I am very familiar with  the research suggesting the unrecognized importance of friends as we age. Now, I find myself discovering it in my own experience. I have friends with whom I discuss the meaning of friendship and the changing pattern of my network of friends. One feature of that pattern is that it is shrinking.  It started as I formally retired (many work colleagues were not really friends, even though I spent hours, indeed years interacting with many of them). My friendship network is being transformed as I participate in new groups and undertake volunteer work. Unfortunately, no matter how I look at it, the network is thinning – but that is tomorrow’s problem.

Today I want to focus on an experience I am having this summer that reinforces my commitment to maintaining a strong friendship network. It all started with one of life’s inevitable incidents as we age. A friend (M.), herself an Academy member, was diagnosed with a serious illness. She announced this to her rather large network of friends via an email laying out her treatment plan, the fact that her energy levels will be low, and that she did not want to spend the months ahead discussing her health with her friends. She would provide regular updates but social time was to be spent on other conversations.

Immediately there was a flurry of discussion, basically wondering what we could do that would be helpful but not intrusive. One woman brought up the idea of organizing a Meal Train (look up the app if you are interested). Several group members were familiar with this; I volunteered to explore it with M. After some thought, M. heartily endorsed the idea. In a nutshell, people volunteer to leave a prepared meal on a daily basis. There is lots of room for specifying M.’s likes and dislikes, time preferences etc. From our point of view, we were doing something that M. wanted and she was not left with the ‘call me if I can be of any help’ message – a classic non-helpful offer.

The experience: I sent out the invitation to 50+ people. Well, the responses came pouring in immediately! Some people lived out of town but wanted to be part of the communication circle; others were incapacitated themselves and could not physically prepare or deliver special dishes but wanted to assist in other ways; finally there were many who could participate and swiftly signed up to do so, choosing dates and specifying the meal.

What a delight! M. was touched by such a show of support. Also, she noted that although her appetite was minimal, her taste buds were functioning very well and the delicious tastes, smells and presentation had her eating to the max.

I manage the Train. This means I daily check the website to monitor the loadings (with COVID-19 what else has one got to do but live on the net!); I communicate with people about when M. will be in or out of town; I answer questions about using the app, etc.  It is very little work. In return over the last two months I have enjoyed email relationships with a network of people, some of whom I casually knew earlier in my career; others are, or rather were, complete strangers.

The near invisibility of friendship in the literature that focuses on the quality of life of people as they age is a tragedy. The journals overflow with research on health services; policies specify their dimensions and millions of dollars are dedicated to their operations. We know little about the dimensions of friendship and how they affect our lives.

Most of you reading this essay are in my age cohort. We have been active in bringing about change in our earlier years. It looks like we will need to confront yet another stereotype: Our bodies may be less agile these days but friends need to be recognized as vital to our well-being. My summer experience reveals just how much we are missing. Making that visible will be a challenge – but if we don’t do it, then it won’t get done.

By Sheila Neysmith