As you'd imagine, I have feelings about this. My mom didn't do anything with my dad's FB page, I'm not sure she could have, and it ended up being a platform for spamming. (I don't remember the details.) I'm number 2 of 4 kids, and got the assignment to call people he'd been friends with in his 30s and 40s. People who needed/deserved a personal call. People I'd known as a kid. They knew why I was calling once they figured out who I was. That moment of recognition moved quickly to grief as I confirmed, and then they told me about how much my dad's friendship had meant to them, about the last time they saw him, that sort of thing.
With my son, of course I called family and friends. It was a complete surprise to everyone. But the broader circle of people that he knew and I didn't -- that appeared on Facebook, waiting a few days until people who needed to be called were called. I locked the site but didn't delete because I like having those memory posts popping up on odd days. I think about him often -- and that's his picture with me as my substack avatar -- so I guess I'm not bothered by reminders. He lives on in the hearts of the people he touched, I think, maybe, and if other people are getting a positive experience from being reminded of that by Zuck's algo, then I'll let that be. I never put an obituary in a newspaper: the people who mattered came to his memorial service. We had a big banner some artist friends had made for the Day of the Dead parade that year, and I've carried his picture in it at least once since then. (Not this year, though.)
My brother-in-law passed away at 72 in October. He wasn't on social media at all. Very traditional small town Catholic funeral, quite well attended. People will think of him as they do, but the internet isn't going to remind them of him, not even a little bit.
That isn't going to work for me at all. I'm not living in a town my family has occupied since the 1600s, and I'm on the internet in a bunch of different places: in some I'm a real full fledged community member, in others I'm more of a drive-by. I'm making a list of people for my daughter to call, at her request. (We both hope it'll be quite a while yet, and have no reason to doubt that that will work out.) I don't feel like I've likely made enough of an impression on anyone on this platform to even merit a mention, but who knows: maybe I'll say something dumb enough to go viral some day. She'll have to figure out what to do, with incomplete information, when the time rolls around.
Had this happen twice recently. People who exist for you only in memory become eternal, it’s a rude awakening when they’re forced to become real people again but also gone. I would have happily seen these people at my 25 year reunion.
I love this. It deserves a wider audience because it’s a pitch-perfect capture of a nearly universal contemporary experience.
Thank you, Hugo. It's a bizarre thing we've done here...
As you'd imagine, I have feelings about this. My mom didn't do anything with my dad's FB page, I'm not sure she could have, and it ended up being a platform for spamming. (I don't remember the details.) I'm number 2 of 4 kids, and got the assignment to call people he'd been friends with in his 30s and 40s. People who needed/deserved a personal call. People I'd known as a kid. They knew why I was calling once they figured out who I was. That moment of recognition moved quickly to grief as I confirmed, and then they told me about how much my dad's friendship had meant to them, about the last time they saw him, that sort of thing.
With my son, of course I called family and friends. It was a complete surprise to everyone. But the broader circle of people that he knew and I didn't -- that appeared on Facebook, waiting a few days until people who needed to be called were called. I locked the site but didn't delete because I like having those memory posts popping up on odd days. I think about him often -- and that's his picture with me as my substack avatar -- so I guess I'm not bothered by reminders. He lives on in the hearts of the people he touched, I think, maybe, and if other people are getting a positive experience from being reminded of that by Zuck's algo, then I'll let that be. I never put an obituary in a newspaper: the people who mattered came to his memorial service. We had a big banner some artist friends had made for the Day of the Dead parade that year, and I've carried his picture in it at least once since then. (Not this year, though.)
My brother-in-law passed away at 72 in October. He wasn't on social media at all. Very traditional small town Catholic funeral, quite well attended. People will think of him as they do, but the internet isn't going to remind them of him, not even a little bit.
That isn't going to work for me at all. I'm not living in a town my family has occupied since the 1600s, and I'm on the internet in a bunch of different places: in some I'm a real full fledged community member, in others I'm more of a drive-by. I'm making a list of people for my daughter to call, at her request. (We both hope it'll be quite a while yet, and have no reason to doubt that that will work out.) I don't feel like I've likely made enough of an impression on anyone on this platform to even merit a mention, but who knows: maybe I'll say something dumb enough to go viral some day. She'll have to figure out what to do, with incomplete information, when the time rolls around.
tldr: we're all just muddling through.
I got off of Facebook in 2017.
It was a huge relief. Viciousness of the things people felt free to say to me was so unpleasant that it wasn’t worth whatever upside there might be.
It also means I’m one of the last people to hear about it when someone dies. That’s a downside.
Had this happen twice recently. People who exist for you only in memory become eternal, it’s a rude awakening when they’re forced to become real people again but also gone. I would have happily seen these people at my 25 year reunion.
Yes, that's such a good way to put it.
I like your new divider.
But in all seriousness, I’m glad I try to avoid FB.
Thanks! I have been meaning to make one for awhile now and finally did.
Reading the glowing comments under my ex's eulogy wasn't fun either
Facebook, can confirm, is not okay.
But the Internet is not okay.
Social media is not okay.
Universe 25 thinking.