A few months ago, one of our neighbors died. I felt greatly saddened by her loss.

She was a remarkable woman, much respected by those who knew her. Over the previous two and a half years, she had drawn admiration for her courage in the face of the painful disease that eventually led to her death.

The woman’s family announced the sad event in a death notice published in the Boston Globe. This notice ran for three successive days.

Besides the central fact, the notice contained a brief biography that touched on this woman’s extraordinary qualities, showing even more how great was this loss for her family, friends, and neighbors. After reading it, I came away regretting not having known her better.

When talking with some of my neighbors in succeeding days, I was shocked, though not entirely surprised, to find them unaware of the news. These people live only a few houses away from where she had lived, but they had not learned of her death. Had I not told them of it, they probably would not have discovered it at all.

To me, much of this unawareness of death can be attributed to the falloff in newspaper reading. The slump in newspaper sales rates as one of the most pervasive and surprising changes of our time.

Each reporting season brings news of more papers losing circulation or going out of business entirely. As a person reared in a newspaper family, I much regret what is happening.

Yes, many people read at least parts of newspapers online. But given the psychic strain (or at least eye strain) that this imposes on those not entirely comfortable with computers, the temptation is strong to limit one’s reading. I suspect that many on-line readers never get to the death notices.

In fact, I have not heard a single person talk about reading such a notice online. Obituaries of famous people, perhaps, but not the announcement of a neighbor’s death.

However, the move away from newspapers may not be the only or the most important reason for not knowing about a neighbor dying. Perhaps a greater influence is a growing avoidance of the topic of death. Many Americans apparently no longer want to know about the end of life.

This I regret for many reasons. What can a person do that is more important than die? Surely it counts as one of the greatest events in the life trajectory. I welcome death no more than anyone else does, but I accord it great significance.

As poet, essayist, and ─yes ─ funeral director, Thomas Lynch writes of two people whose attitude he admires: “They understood that the meaning of life is connected, inextricably, to the meaning of death.”

When I was growing up, the signs of death were often more evident. Many people would hang a black wreath on their front door to signal the passing away of a family member. It provoked a certain awe to realize that someone who had lived nearby would no longer be seen.

Wakes frequently took place in the person’s home rather than in the funeral home. You would see people coming to the house dressed in black and looking serious if not somber.

These practices and others made it hard for neighbors to ignore the loss of someone formerly close at hand. Forceful reminders served to convey the news to the surrounding territory at least.

And, of course, there were newspaper reports. Obituaries and death notices would spread the word about the passage of people from this life. People were curious to know what had happened.

My maternal grandmother was a model of earlier attitudes. When I fetched her daily newspaper, the Salem Evening News, her first question to me was: “Who’s dead?”

She remained vitally interested in the deaths of her friends and acquaintances, people she loved or, at least, knew something about. If a neighbor died, that was vital news to her.

However, you did not have to be an addict like my grandmother to keep up with deaths. Other people, especially those in middle age or beyond, remained intensely interested in the dying of friends and neighbors. They were unlikely to be unaware of the death of someone they knew.

My concern is the loosening of the bonds that tie neighborhoods together. I believe in the value of having connections with people who live nearby. To me, it enhances the quality of life to be in touch with neighbors.

That does not mean invasions of privacy; we already have enough of that with surveillance cameras and other intrusions into our lives.

But contact between people who live in the same area increases security the natural way. It also facilitates the sharing of resources, and interests, and the growth of friendships.

When my neighbors die, I want to know about it. The opportunity to grieve that person’s death and to extend condolences to their loved ones is something I will continue to value, no matter how unfashionable it becomes.