First of the Gang to Die: A Farewell to a Friend

We all knew this was coming. 

On Sunday (October 29), many of us woke up to the news that Hollywood star Matthew Perry had died. The actor, who is best-known for playing the role of lovable cynic Chandler Bing on the hit American sitcom Friends, was 54 years old.

We knew this was coming not because we’re aware of his struggles with substance abuse and alcoholism, which he wrote about in his memoir released last year, but because we always knew it was only a matter of time when the gang of six would eventually lose one of its members.

It could seem kind of petty and inconsequential to mourn the demise of a rich American celebrity when there are so many other things to be concerned about in the world we live in today—the war in Ukraine, climate change, the conflict in Israel and Gaza—but for the many, many lives he’s touched through his work onscreen, his passing leaves a gaping hole in our hearts that cannot—will not—ever be replaced.

I’m old enough to have caught Friends when it was still on the air. The old ABC-5 TV station carried episodes weekly and I remember fighting with my siblings for control of the television so I could watch it on the night it was on. If I was unlucky I’d walk over to my cousins’ place and beg them so I can watch the show there.

When cable became a thing some channels ran episodes, but they would air way past my bedtime (like 11 p.m.). I’d sneak off to one of my cousins who had her own TV in her room. That’s how much I couldn’t bear to miss a single episode. 

In later years after Friends ended its run, my love for the show only grew. I collected the DVDs when they came out. I bought the boxed set; one season every few months when I saved up enough from my meager salary. Sometimes my own friends would give them to me as gifts. We joined Friends-themed pub quiz nights and actually won a couple of them. And when the show finally made it over to Netflix, it became a nightly routine. I’m not exaggerating when I say I still watch one or two episodes every night as a way to shake off the stresses of the day and make sure my overall mood is lifted just before I hit the sack.

That’s what the show was—is—to me: 25 or so minutes of guaranteed serotonin rush. At this point I’ve seen the show so many times I practically have the dialogue memorized. I know the joke setup and actual punchlines, but I still laugh every time like it was the first time I’m hearing them. It might not be a stretch to say that the characters of the show have become actual friends, in the way that they provide a pick-me-up any time you need one.

So to hear that one of the six core cast members is gone is a loss that stings almost as much as when an actual loved one dies. We knew this was coming but we’re still never, ever prepared. 

I got Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing as a Christmas present last year and read it over the holidays. The actor let it all out in the book—from his growing-up years in Canada, his first big break in Hollywood, working on the show that changed his life, his relationships with his co-stars, and of course, his addiction to alcohol, prescription medication, and drugs. As in countless other cases, Perry was one of those entertainers who seemed to lead perfectly manicured lives but struggled with personal demons behind the cameras.

So great was the weight of Perry’s addiction that it almost took his life at least twice. But he survived to tell the tale, and he says he wrote the book as a way to reach out to those in the same predicament to let them know that they are not alone in their struggles and that there is hope. Perry himself was a living testament that it was possible to go through hell and come back battered and bruised but alive and still with a sense of humor. 

But Death comes for all of us sooner or later. Perry held on for as long as he could and we can only choose to be grateful that he was in this world long enough to entertain us and make us happy the way he did.

Friends the show didn’t resonate as much with a lot of other people, but for those that it did, watching reruns now is bittersweet. Perry breathed life into Chandler Bing and made us all love him despite—or perhaps because of—his sarcasm and dry wit. “15 Yemen Road Yemen,” will never not be funny, but hearing his on-again, off-again girlfriend Janice say it to him now will carry a tinge of sadness. His off-the-cuff retorts to Joey (Matt LeBlanc) about everything from Q-tips, leaf blowers, and how tailors measure pants now have a touch of grief. And his love story with Monica, the girl-next-door who became his wife and mother to their kids, will now seem even more poignant.

Friends was a fictional show, yes, but when it’s become so much a part of your life that you treat the characters like your own friends, you mourn them as such when one of them passes away. And that’s what I’m choosing to do now. 

Goodbye Matthew Perry a.k.a Chandler Bing. We’ll try to keep it down.