a different sort of post

This is sort of a departure from the kind of posts I usually write here...but it was too long for a Facebook post, and the timing (Valentine's Day!) was sort of off.  So, I share it here so I can get it out of my head and go find the strength to deny my children mint chocolate chips for breakfast.

It's Valentine's Day, but I woke up (at 6am when the dog came to see if we were awake--ha! we are now!) thinking about grief and internet sharing (and over-sharing) and how people react to grief as well as how people react to grieving people. Grief used to be a pretty private thing, witnessed only by those close to you, but now it can be shared with dozens, hundreds, thousands of people--not only instantly but with a real-time play-by-play. It's interesting seeing how people react to those in grief, and how people often expect everyone to follow their predicted model. "If that happened to me, I'd be sitting in a corner crying--not on FACEBOOK!" But the reality is, you most likely have no idea how you would react. Every grief you experience is different, and every situation is different, and even YOU are often different in various stages of your life.
 

All this came into my thoughts this week when I read about a mother (who I won't name here, to prevent further drama) who lost her young toddler to a SIDS-like incident. This mom is a big advocate for attachment parenting, babywearing, and co-sleeping. Her post about her child's death was somewhat defensive and prideful of what she and her baby had accomplished toward these parenting goals...and probably rightly so. People would wonder about the death of a co-sleeping baby, particularly from a co-sleeping advocate. Her post stuck me as a little...off...somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I finally just decided it was the tone of the post but that she was most likely trying to share her thoughts but in a way that let people know what happened and the lack of a reason why. I did a little searching and found sites where people were wondering if the whole thing was a hoax...all due to her reactions and posts. Ugly comments were put on a memorial page for the site but removed by moderators.
 

Another mom of a young child is on my mind this morning as well...a Georgia boy who had a limb fall and strike him on his head while at daycare. News reports say things like "...as he recovers in a local hospital" but his mother's Facebook posts are full of stark honesty. I can't bear to read them but I see them from time to time when a Facebook friend comments or likes a post. His mother is angry, scared, sad, frustrated...and full of love. She hates seeing this happen to her child and just wants him to have one day of peace with no pain. I cannot imagine her heartache.
 

Pain and grief used to be very private things, and now they are sometimes very public. I think part of our reaction to this is just how different it is...there's no "public face" to put on and everything said can be judged by anyone. If you sound too sad, people thinkyou are oversharing, and if you are too positive, people think something's up because you should be very sad and show it. That's a lot of standards to live up to.
 

I've seen a lot of loss in my circle of friends over the last few years. Loved ones have lost children, spouses, friends, and family. And while in many ways, Facebook and other social media seem so very superficial at times, they have also provided a window to my loved ones' souls as I see them struggling with these losses. Online communication provides a medium for this somehow, creating both a fast network of communication and also maybe a wall of sorts that they feel safe enough behind to share what they are going through. To criticize someone when they are most likely stripped of all awareness and simply reaching out to someone, anyone, who might offer a reason, a solution, or a hope is ridiculous to me...yet at the same time I've felt the same reaction in myself. Instead of criticizing, I've tried to examine my own feelings and figure out why and learn from it.
 

Ultimately, we are in control of what we read and see. I admit. I hid posts and eventually unfriended someone due to their overwhelming grief and inability to move on with their life. It wasn't because I thought they should be doing it differently so much as it was someone I felt I didn't know well enough to see this side of their soul and I felt helpless...yet I still feel uncomfortable that I just walked away.

  

The loss of these traditional boundaries sometimes makes us a little uncomfortable, but in a way, it makes it so much easier to let someone know that you are thinking about them.  I love that I can chime in and throw some love and support someone's way at such a minimal expense to myself (as selfish as that sounds).  Sometimes I do want to just unplug the modem and leave the online world forever and retreat to a more simpler way of living.  But I think I would also be depriving myself of this amazing connection (no matter how superficial it can be at times) to other people...people I love...and people I just met.  Some of the people I am closest to right now wouldn't be in my life at all if not for social media, most of whom I met in person at some point in life and then got to know better (or again) online. 

 

So I guess this post really does come back around to the importance of love and compassion.  Happy Valentine's Day.  Now go hug someone!