One of my best friends passed away recently. He had gone through a few surgeries, which seemed to have gone well. Later, however, he had a cardiac arrest that he didn’t survive. He was around my age, well advanced in what they call the “six series”.

We had been in contact almost every day, texting stories and jokes and the occasional picture or video which I can’t share with you because you’re not old enough.

I was surprised I didn’t hear from him in the past few weeks. He never told me about his illness. I heard about his passing from a mutual friend.

I was surprised, and also not surprised. I wasn’t surprised because I’m at the age where this sort of loss is getting more common.

We had first met in 1982 when we worked at the same company; we had both just returned from studies abroad and felt like we had some precious secrets and experiences in common.

We shared a lot of things that we’d picked up abroad, including a few that would get us shunned by polite company, or even get us arrested. We had some wild times back in Penang then, which, even stripping out the obvious exaggeration, still feel wild by today’s standards.

Children of the 60s

Although every generation boasts about their own times and cultures, those who grew up in the 1960s and 70s are a special case. The world was a very different place then.

There was a lot of rebellion in the air because of the Vietnam War and the resultant hippy culture. The world itself felt ragged, even a little bit unhinged, with the seeming breakdown of societies in many parts of the world.

It was the time for rebellious young people. We ourselves however weren’t quite the type to pick up guns to change the world. We were the young people who had to deliver on huge parental and societal expectations.

Our rebellions were small acts of defiance on the periphery – things like keeping long hair, wearing dingy clothing and swooning over the “naughty” icons of those times: John Lennon, Che Guevara, Jimmy Hendrix.

It was also about playing Led Zeppelin and The Who and other heavy metal or “headbanger” music, and later even the punk music of the Sex Pistols and The Clash – anything other than the Bee Gees or the Carpenters.

Pretty tame stuff all things considered. Many of those who weren’t as tame didn’t make it out of that era, with drugs being one of the biggest levellers.

We survived, to our parents’ relief, and obviously to our own too.

Privileged young

But we’re certainly different from the later generations, those who came from a more privileged background, often ones that we – their parents – created. They seem to have less anger or desire to change the world.

These generations saw going to university as a perfectly reasonable step up the ladder of the good life. They focused on that, paid the price for it, and perhaps grudgingly reaped whatever benefits that came from it.

My friend and his family migrated to the US a few decades ago. While his children are all Americans, he and his wife remained Malaysian.

He didn’t see any need to change what seemed like the best arrangement for both worlds.

He’d come back to visit Malaysia every few years, and we’d catch up, and laugh at the same old jokes. We’re both retired, but have a few spare pennies to allow us to do things like travel. That is indeed a blessing.

Old friends and bookends

I’ve worked in many companies over the almost four decades of being a salaryman.

This friend, and a few others, were from my first employment, and we still keep in touch in spite of often vast distances. I actually have close friends from all of my eight jobs stretching back to 1982, and regularly keep in contact.

As I got more senior in my career, there were fewer friends from my peers but more from the staff or younger colleagues, but who are now valued friends nevertheless.

Much as I value having friends, as I got older I became less willing to cling to old friendships that no longer worked for whatever reasons, ranging from our lives going different ways to perhaps just simple misunderstandings.

I’ve cut some people totally out of my life. I didn’t do it out of anger, mind you. I just didn’t want to invest any more energy in those friendships.

None of them were really bad people, as I wouldn’t have become friends with them otherwise. But at some point, you just say enough, let’s move on.

A few came back and reconnected, and it felt like we had consciously agreed to renew our friendship. A few didn’t, and I can’t help but feel that maybe that was the best thing to happen to both sides.

Making new friends

But here’s the nice thing – I keep making new friends. Some of the recent additions had come to mean more to me than some of the older ones. Perhaps as I got older, I became better at choosing friends.

Or perhaps there’s a simpler explanation: that, as I get older, having friends begins to mean more and more to me, and hence the motivation to keep adding to my collection of friends.

Either way, going out and about and opening yourself up to new experiences and new people is certainly not a bad thing. Having friends is important as you grow older, and I notice the younger ones seem to find it as important to them too.

That shouldn’t be a surprise. In spite of the greater prosperity of the world today, there are other sources of stress brought about by unique modern-day challenges we didn’t have to deal with back then.

So, regardless of age, we all can make use of a few more friends. If you’re happy with your current circle of friends, that’s well and good. But you would probably enjoy having a few new friends too, so go for it.

And you could also be the friend that many people out there need. You could be the person that helps somebody step back from the ledge.

There’s not enough of such friends nowadays, so feel free to step in and help address the imbalance. The world certainly needs it.

Anyway, I’m down one friend now. I’ll miss you my dear S – may you be head-banging to live versions of Stairway to Heaven until eternity.

Meanwhile, I’ll also try to keep adding to the circles of whatever friends that I have, both for my benefit – and for theirs too.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.