Dear Amy: I've been in a bad place, and I'm a little surprised at the reason: I am grieving over the death of Matthew Perry.

I couldn't identify why I was feeling so low, until I finally realized that what I was feeling was grief. But how can you grieve someone that you never knew personally? I think maybe it has to do with what I felt this person gave to me.

I just wish I could say, "Thank you for all the laughs!" What is your perspective on this type of thing?

Amy says: I can well understand why you (and many others) feel very real grief over this loss.

Actors, musicians, writers and other cultural figures can make an indelible mark on our own real and lived experience. And when the loss involves an actor who created a memorable character who came into our living rooms over such a long period of time, you feel as if you have lost a very real "Friend."

Additionally, Perry's decades-long and very public struggle with addiction use disorder adds a sad and tragic poignancy to the end of his life, which came way too soon.

Reading accounts of the extreme physical consequences of his alcohol and drug addiction, as well as his many painful, heartbreaking and public relapses, one realizes that fame, fortune and the very best Friends were ultimately no match for this disease.

I read a quote from Matthew Perry, where he said that he knew he would be remembered for "Friends," but that he wished he would be remembered for his role in helping other addicts on the road to sobriety. Many people currently in recovery have spoken publicly about his vital role in personally helping them, including his choice to turn his former home into a sober living facility called the Perry House.

His death is a legitimate loss to mourn, but also a legacy to celebrate.

Say what you need

Dear Amy: My mother died recently, after a brief illness. She had requested to be cremated and to have a gathering for family only. I sent a text to my close friends letting them know about her death and telling them that there would not be a service. They all responded with sympathy.

My two closest friends asked if I needed anything. At that time, I did not need anything, and so I said no. By "anything," I thought they meant things like meals. I didn't think they meant friendship.

I don't know if I should reach out to these friends asking why they're ignoring me, or just leave it alone. I am very hurt and would prefer to end my relationship with them. What are your thoughts?

Amy says: My thoughts are that if you allow your grief to extend to ending these friendships, you will be very alone.

Your friends might not be deliberately ignoring you. They may see this as "giving you space." Two universal truths are revealed here: No two people grieve alike, and many of us behave within cultural norms that don't teach us how to acknowledge others' loss and grief.

Your mother's choice to keep her memorial service very small denied you the opportunity to gather with friends at one time and in one place, with everyone sharing some of the rituals of loss. This might have helped you to feel more connected.

I hope you will not give up on these friendships. Your friends asked you once if you needed anything, and now it's time for you to say, "I really do need something. I need to spend some time together. I need to talk."

Send questions to Amy Dickinson at askamy@amydickinson.com.