An obituary for the obituary - Part III
Our last installment explored a variety of benefits to the observed trend of what I’ve dubbed the “Facebook Obituary”. These benefits included the freedom of word count, word choice, content, and the use of photographs, among others. In my work I have observed, conversely, some drawbacks to the use of Facebook for obituary posting which I’d like to enumerate now.
My goal in doing so is not to cast judgment on those who have chosen this route in mourning their loved one, but rather to point out ways in which their mourning or their grief might miss out on some of the under-appreciated benefits of the old traditions so they may seek them out elsewhere. I also do so in an effort to assist those conflicted with obituary-related decisions to make as informed a decision as possible.
Similar to our last installment, I’ll bold portions of this commentary that I think are core concepts to the grieving process and/or grief work as I understand it.
The first downside to the “Facebook Obituary” is that the post, unless otherwise directed to a certain page or group, definitionally goes out to only your “‘friends”, people with whom you've previously chosen to connect with. This is much different than the traditional obituary, which has historically been something for broader public consumption.
I suppose, in theory, it's possible that the post would then be shared by your friends to some of their friends, but I don't think this happens as often as we might think. Similarly, in theory, the use of hashtags might bring the post to a broader audience, though folks would need to be looking for that kind of content which doesn’t strike me as altogether too likely.
So this idea of a “friends-only” obituary is a major departure from the traditional obituary, which was written and presented in a way to communicate the most important details of an individual's life and death to family, friends, and strangers alike. The fact that the posting would be seen by folks who had not previously known your loved one, or hadn’t been a part of their life for years, I believe, tasked the author(s) with writing an obituary in a way that was immensely more therapeutic.
It asked the authors to widen their gaze to include someone's entire life, all the chapters of their proverbial book. It forced the authors to mention details that might otherwise be assumed to be well-known to those closest to them, but many times aren't as well-known as we estimate. It also asked the authors to write with the deceased's friends, colleagues, and acquaintances from both past and present in mind, and not so much their own. Overall it asked the authors to take a wider, more objective third-party view of the loss, perhaps even the view of the stranger, which in the early days of grieving and mourning a loss can be immensely healthy and profoundly therapeutic. This shift in perspective, even if it’s for only brief moments, is often a critical reprieve from the overwhelming thoughts and feelings of profound pain, loss, and sadness folks are feeling in these early hours and days of a loss.
Writing about a loved one who’s passed with an audience consisting only of your friends in mind seems to me to rob the author of the opportunity to step into this different perspective, see the loss from different points of view, and perhaps tell their loved one’s story in a slightly different, often more holistic, way.
The second downside I see in this trend is that the “Facebook Obituary” is almost always written by one person and only one person. Unlike the obituary of yesteryear which was a much more collaborative process, often including multiple different loved ones of the deceased, which in my estimation brought with it a host of therapeutic benefits.
I acknowledge that sometimes this collaborative process has proved to be more of a curse than a blessing for some families, often due to underlying family dysfunction and old conflicts bubbling up where they ideally wouldn’t belong. I’ve had plenty of folks share with me how in writing the obituary with their loved ones disagreements emerged related to who to include and exclude in the next-of-kin, which photograph to use, which adjectives to use, which facts about the person’s life should be included and which shouldn’t, just to name a few.
The problem is, as far as I can tell, if these conversations and disagreements are handled with care, with respect, and with a mutual understanding of everyone’s pain, these can be really healthy and therapeutic moments.
More often than not I’ve seen loved ones bond in these difficult moments. For example: I’ve seen the choice of the photograph become an opportunity for loved ones to sift through photos together, during which they invariably pull some out and say “remember this day?” or have a laugh or have a cry over a mutually emotional memory. All of which wouldn’t happen if this weren’t a collaborative process. Similarly, I’ve seen loved ones learn things about the deceased they might not have otherwise learned if another loved one hadn’t shared about it during the obituary writing, which folks tend to cherish in this moment of loss.
And, ultimately, the collaborative process of writing the obituary serves the purpose of a loved one having their pain and their grief validated by the pain and grief of the others involved, the value of which cannot be overstated. In our most difficult moments of grief and loss, we often feel so isolated and so strange in our emotions. Learning that others close to you are feeling a similar way is a lighthouse on the shore for folks lost in their grief.
The third downside of the “Facebook Obituary” I’d like to point out here is that I fear the Facebook post provides an all-too-convenient box in which those who love the author can offer support and love. As this love and support, almost always, will only be returned to the Facebook user in the form of likes, hearts, comments, or direct messages online. All of which certainly have their place in our emotional world, but don’t seem to me to measure up to the love and support we’d receive otherwise.
Contrast the digital hearts and D-M’s of the Facebook post with what used to come as a result of the public obituary. If a loss you read about in the paper elicited any reaction from you at all as someone who cared, or knew, or liked, or loved the deceased, you would offer your condolences and offer your support in the form of a making phone call, hand-writing a letter, ordering and sending flowers, making and offering food, or in some extreme (and I think lovely) cases in the form of an in-person visit.
How much more meaningful and fulfilling must it be to have someone look you in the eye and tell you they care, and that they're “here for you”? Or to hear it in their own voice on the other end of the phone? Or to see it in their own handwriting, in an envelope they addressed, sealed, stamped, and mailed? Or to see it manifested in a beautiful aromatic bouquet of flowers or a warm delicious meal?
Of course the “Facebook Obituary” doesn’t preclude someone from doing any of these things, and I sure hope they do one of them. But, in reality, I fear the convenience of hitting that reaction button and calling it a day is too tempting for most folks. Many of whom perhaps intend on doing more but maybe never get around to it. Regardless of the reasons, these old traditions forced folks to live out their love and kindness towards the bereaved in what seem objectively to me to be more substantial and meaningful ways. And I want that for people, especially those suffering with grief and loss.
In the next and final post in this blog series I’ll summarize all we’ve said here and reflect on where we might be heading in terms of our traditions around death and obituaries. In closing I’ll reiterate what I said in the beginning of this post: my goal here is not to cast judgment on anyone’s decisions on how to share the news of their loss, but rather to fully illuminate what I see as the benefits of the more traditional obituary. I do so because I firmly believe these benefits help make grieving and mourning our losses healthier.