by Chrysa Smith
I blog. I’m on the internet constantly. I email. But my Facebook activities are limited.
I just don’t know what to write. I’ve heard that it’s completely self-serving to promote your own product directly, but yet, that seems to be part of the reason for being on the site in the first place. So, occasionally, I jump on because I get notifications that I have messages. That, and I keep thinking that some divine inspiration to say the catchiest thing—something that will elicit responses from all of my ‘friends’ –will strike.
So just the other day, I was on. And if you’re a Facebook follower, you know that dozens of windows pop up with everything from ads to birthdays to messages on your ‘wall’ and ‘others you might know.’ I look at them, because it never ceases to amaze me how distant, vague connections pop up along with those you know and speak to regularly.
So I had to laugh the other day. One of the ‘people I should connect with’ was the deceased sister of my mother-in-law. Should I hold a seance? Do I hire a ‘medium?’ I dare say that I can probably post a message on her ‘wall’ and not receive an answer. So, the motto of the story is now, in this technological age, you are no longer a mere mortal. You can live on indefinitely, although most likely, silently.
Maybe it’s a nice reminder, that our friends and loved ones have some regular presence or reminder in our lives. Mother’s face can always elicit that ‘finger wag’, keeping us on the straight and narrow from the nether world. Although maybe, our computers will eventually be bogged down by all the memory needed to memorialize all of those deceased folks. One thing is certain: technology hasn’t only changed the living—but the dead as well. There’s just no getting away from it.
So, in the interest of privacy, I say that you let your loved ones know how to delete your Facebook account upon expiration—and let you really, finally, ultimately ‘Rest in Peace.’