I lost a good friend over the holidays. It happened very suddenly. He was 79, without any obvious health issues, active and engaged in the world, and he just didn't wake up one morning. Besides leaving behind me and many other friends, he left his wife of 28 years.

I think of him often and I am struck each time by the wonderment of his absence, that we won't be meeting for breakfast anymore, we won't be sharing our political disillusionment or laugh at the ironies of the world, at least in this life. But I truly grieve when I think of his wife, who misses him more than anyone else and who has to begin 2007 and each new year after that without him.

How do we cope with such a significant event in our lives? How do we adjust to not having someone with us that we are "used to" and depend upon in so many obvious and not-so-obvious ways? Someone who has been part of the very fabric of our lives and beings is suddenly gone. Suddenly their imperfections seem endearing and we realize that the strength we thought was ours may also have been because they were in our lives. It's difficult to put into words what is such an intensely personal experience and yet we are all faced with some variation of this sooner or later. It's a universal experience.

As human beings we like to make meaning of our experiences. We often look to others to see how they cope with loss. Recently, the death of Gerald Ford has caused us to focus not only on his legacy but also on his wife, Betty, bravely in the public eye at the various remembrance ceremonies. We mourn also as each soldier killed in Iraq or Afghanistan returns to a grieving family.

Death is very public these days. We read memoirs and we consult "experts" as to how we should be feeling in the aftermath of loss. If we are religious, we use our beliefs to strengthen and guide us and we take comfort in knowing that this is not really the end, that we will be reunited with loved ones eventually.

However, we are still left with the need to actually keep living, to cope with each day that comes and to continue with other significant relationships and life events. It seems that we can learn something by living with death; we can become better at valuing who is still in our lives. Perhaps we can reach out more and let people know how much we care about them. Perhaps we can transcend our loss eventually and use it to better the world in some way.

But I think this comes slowly, with the passage of time and the hard work of just being able to rise each morning and brush our teeth and find something to occupy ourselves.

There is no easy way to live with the loss of someone we care about. It is not instant and there is no magic formula. But I do know that it can be done and it is done every day, in every kind of circumstance, by those around us. We need to pay attention to those who are grieving, we need to be available to them and sit with them. We need to hear how hard it is and understand that it will be us, at some point. And perhaps, as a result, we can look at our own loved ones and not find fault but simply celebrate the imperfect beings they are and be joyful each day we still have them.

Following is a question from one of our readers:

Q: My mother died over a year ago and I am concerned that my dad is not dealing with it very well. They were married for over 30 years. He has stopped playing golf with his friends, doesn't seem to care much about seeing anyone and has lost weight. He insists that everything is fine but my sister and I are worried about him. Whenever we come over, he has little in the fridge to eat, the house is pretty dirty and he often is still in his pajamas even though it's the afternoon or evening. Should we try to get him some help?

A: Yes, he sounds depressed. Grieving is an individual process, taking its own time for healing, but there should be some gains for your dad by this time. Some warning signs are lack of selfcare, disinterest in usual activities and isolating from friends. While these are normal reactions to major loss, they usually lessen by now. I would recommend that both you and your sister talk to him about your concerns and urge him to consider a grief group or consulting with a mental health professional to get him back on track.

Deborah Barber, Ph.D. is a clinical psychologist who specializes in individual adult and couples therapy, with a private practice in Oak Park. She can be reached at (818) 5127923. Send your questions to askDrDB@yahoo.com.