When I head off to that big ol’ yoga mat in the sky….

29 09 2010

I freely admit that I love the very thing that I am about to complain about. The Internet.

Here goes. When (I was about to type IF, and I realized that was a bit of a stretch even for me, even if I plan to hit at least 106 before saying sayanora…) I die, I DO NOT WANT A MEMORIAL ON FACEBOOK.

I know that there are many of us who have joined memorials online. I know I have. For many people it is a way to communally mourn, to reminisce, and to share fond memories. To make a mark publicly that you knew the person, cared for that person and so forth. There is a validity to this, and a way of connecting to the others who have suffered a loss. And I am not at all saying that memorials shouldn’t be posted on facebook or any other sites. I believe that, for some, they have huge worth and value, and healing qualities.

It teeters on an invasion of privacy for me though. The young girl that was brutally murdered last week in Delta had a memorial facebook page dedicated to her within hours of her horrific death. It seemed like it was a race of “Me First’s” to join, to comment, to condemn the person who did it.

I’m not sure if anyone considered the torment and emotions of her parents, her brothers and sisters or the girl who found her were having to trudge through. It was as if the RIP sentiments were much more important to post online than to quietly grieve with the ones who loved her. It was like a strange sort of popularity contest, a race to mourn…

And then the trolls came out of the woodwork and started to post derogatory, rude and insulting comments on the page. (I didn’t see any of that, I heard about it on the news.)

I just felt so sickened… sickened by her terrible loss of life and nauseated at the, pardon my french, fucking assholes who prey on social networking sites to post the rudest and sickest things they can possibly post. For what reason, I cannot even fathom.

So. If I happen to leave this earthly space any time soon, I would much rather a physical gathering of friends and family, who can raise a glass of Riesling to me, who can mourn with each other face-to-face, and embrace each others bodies in solace. To grieve without public eyes peering in, witnessing such intimate emotions.

To grieve the way we’re supposed to grieve. And heal the way we are meant to heal.




2 responses

10 10 2010


I giggle to myself when people write the post specifically to the deasesed, as if he/she is checking their Facebook from the great beyond.

I mean, really.

10 10 2010

So glad someone else understands this… Where’s my “Like” button? Hahaha!!!!

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