Death and Facebook

The biggest quiet concern about travelling to far away lands is that something will happen to your loved ones when you are away.  I say 'quiet' because no one likes to talk about it.  Even worse is when you're going to be out of touch for a while.  The first time you check your email you can hardly contain yourself with all the excitement of hearing from friends and family, but at the same time you silently dread the worst.

Sadly, when I arrived in French Polynesia after the 30 day passage, I learned that a friend of mine, Bob Seymour, had passed away the previous weekend.  International internet connection troubles painfully throttled the pace at which I got the details surrounding his death.  For the first several hours all I knew was that he had died tragically.  Then I learned he had committed suicide, and much later I was told how and why. 

It's a week now since I've known, and still as I sit writing this I'm getting choked up.  I met Bob back in 2003 when I joined the camp "Love Project Unlimited" (LPU) for my first trip to Burningman.  From our introduction to the last time I saw him Bob was nothing short of delightful.  He was always smiling, willing to help and had natural energy in a sea of intoxicants.  Even when something was frustrating or difficult, Bob would be there bearing down, working hard, but still positive and the first to shoot me a grin.  One of my favorite memories of Bob happened out on Market Street.  He rode his bike to work everyday (though I have no idea how, up the hill to Twin Peaks!) and I took the bus, so was often waiting around on the street.  You couldn't miss Bob; he always wore bright yellow neon.  One day I saw him just a little past me and I called out, "BOB!"  He didn't turn around.  So I tried again, "BOB, NICE ASS!!"  That did it; he screeched to a halt and looked around dazed to find me laughing hysterically :-) 

While Bob was certainly someone I could always count on, I can't say that he was a good or a close friend.  I just didn't know the guy that well.  He pretty much always showed up to all events, and we'd have a short to medium length chat, but they were just chats.  I tried to talk-talk with him, learn more about him, but he never seemed open to it.  Everyone else had a similar experience with him...no one *really* knew the guy.  I only had one talk with him, and ironically, it was about death.  Unfortunately, even at my young age (31), I've had to deal with a lot of death.  I've lost very close family, good friends and even a lover.  It was early 2008 and I had just gone through a very difficult time of losing 3 family members over the course of 3 months.  Bob offered his condolences and told me how he'd never really lost anyone he was close to, though he was a fair bit older than I.  He knew he'd have to face it eventually; he was scared and asked how I dealt with it.  I told him that the one thing I had learned is that you have to give yourself permission to grieve as much and for however long you need to.  Everyone is different, so if anyone tells you you *should* be getting over it by now, just tell them where to stick it. 

Now I'm sitting in a beautiful island paradise dealing with *his* death, and everytime I *should* be having fun, diving/snorkeling etc., I'm thinking of him.  (Which I've given myself every right to do.)  Yesterday, the internet connection was relatively stable, so I was cruising Facebook.  I'd wondered what happens to one's profile when you die...what if no one has your password to deactivate your account?  Does it just stay frozen in time?  Should a "Deceased" status be added to the Single, In a Relationship, and Married list?  As it turns out, at least for Bob anyway, his Facebook page has turned into a memorial of sorts.  Loads of people have posted messages, photos and condolences and notices went up about services and gatherings.  The messages were the most poignent.  "You made the world a better place."  "Thank you for always being there with a smile on your face."  "I wish I knew you better; what little I knew was wonderful."  ALL these people pouring out ALL this love to Bob in a medium he isn't likely to see (unless Facebook is available in the afterlife, which isn't entirely outside of the realm of possibility, but still...).  I couldn't help but think, what if we told each other how much we love and care for one another BEFORE we go, maybe in such a way that we can save it and look at it when we get low.  Bob said in his note that he knew he had support from many friends, but he didn't feel he could turn to anyone for help.  Maybe if he knew the depth of everyone's love and support, saw it immortalized on his profile, just maybe.................

Is there a "Tell me How Much You Care About Me and Why" or "Living Memorial" Facebook app?  There should be. 

Bob, I wish we had talk-talked more.  I loved your energy, your smile, your selflessness and how you always seemed to be boppin to music.  You could have called on me for anything.  I'll miss you...and your nice ass.