My Facebook Friend Passed Away

You and I really didn’t “know” each other very long, but while we may have only met on Facebook, you made an impact on me. You validated not only my writing, but my struggles with my “weird” illness as well. As far as I am concerned, you were present in my life.

 

By Carmelene Melanie Siani

Dear Facebook Friend,

You and I never met. Well, not really—not “in person”—but we did meet on Facebook.You found me through an essay I wrote about the effect of a vegan diet on my health and asked me if you could put copies of my essay in your New Client packets.

I remember you so well, because I was a budding new writer and a budding new vegan and you said that what I wrote was the single most convincing argument about the benefits of a plant-based diet that you could offer your new clients.

You blew me away. You, a real health coach with a certification and a license and a practice and a blog and a website and all, wanted to use my story for your clients.

And then, well, then you kept blowing me away with your wonderfully lighthearted posts on health and wellness and spirituality that were simple and straightforward and easy to read (not to mention your delicious recipes and different ways to use foodstuffs that were still entirely new to me).

I still make your Who-Woulda-Thought-You’d-Ever-Put-Spinach-In-a-Blueberry-Smoothie, and I  remember my husband, expecting it to taste like yuck, commented on how good it was and asked where I got the recipe and I told him it was from you, “my Facebook Friend.”

I remember how supportive you were when I told you I was sick and how it scared me to have toxic mold poisoning (never mind how it messed with my body, it was how it messed with my mind that was the worst). We messaged each other, and I told you about my fear and I wept while you gave me your understanding.

You didn’t deny my experience; you validated me. You did that.

And then, one day, I checked my feed again and realized there was nothing from you. I thought maybe something had happened so I went to your page and saw that something had happened.

You weren’t there.

Instead of your comments and updates, I saw comment after comment from people saying that they missed you, that they were sorry you were gone, that it all happened so fast and that it was so tragic and awful and they were sad, sad, sad. And I—well, I was shocked, and I just wanted to write to you to tell you that I am sad, too.

You and I really didn’t “know” each other very long, but while we may have only met on Facebook, you made an impact on me. You validated not only my writing, but my struggles with my “weird” illness as well. As far as I am concerned, you were present in my life.

I know you were. I felt you. And I notice that you are gone.

There was so much more I was looking forward to. But there won’t be any going forward so I am just writing this little post to tell how much your comments and your “thumbs ups” mattered to me and how much of a difference all of that from you meant to me. I have no doubt that the friendship and kindness you showed me was just a teensy, tiny little blip of the friendship and kindness you showed everyone you knew—whether they were “real” friends or not.

It strikes me that that’s just who you are. Who you were.

In the end, you know what I think? I think that people can say all they want about social media. Facebook remains a part of it—a part that people like you and me use to connect, talk share and get to know each other. Throughout time, people have connected in whatever ways are available to them. Who knows, maybe Facebook is the Stone Tablets or the cave drawings or the smoke signals of today.

You know what else I think? I think that Facebook friendships like yours and mine don’t die.They are stored in the Cloud.

That great, big, beautiful Cloud full of Facebook friends.

 

 

Photo: Pixabay

Editor: Dana Gornall

 

Were you moved by this post? You might also like:

 

 

Family Gup-Shup (Chit Chat). {Poem}

  By Prerna Bakshi Tea will be ordered. Plates of biscuits will be offered. Coffee table will be filled with samosas, kachauris, namkeen. Then, they’d all sit down to an abundant meal prepared by her (most likely that took hours in the making). If feeling generous,...

Swaying to the Bongos & Finding Your Tribe.

By Deb Avery Some of us are a little different. While everyone else is marching in one direction, not only to the beat of the drums but with the complete accompanying orchestra, some of us are off over here, oblivious to the hoopla, swaying gently to the sounds of...

Recognizing Verbal Abuse So You Can Take Steps to End It.

  By Holly E. Messick During the first 12 years of my second marriage, my husband and I were involved in a verbally abusive relationship. Because I had experienced ongoing verbal abuse since childhood, I was unaware of what was occurring in my marriage as it was...

Living Bead by Bead: A Non-Traditional Mala Practice

  By Kellie Schorr Early in my mindfulness journey I bought a mala---a set of 108 beads worn around the wrist or neck. I wear mine on my wrist. Traditionally it is used to count repetitions when someone employs a mantra as part of their centering or...

Comments

comments

Carmelene Melanie Siani

Carmelene Melanie Siani is a 77 year old woman who began writing for publication on her 73rd birthday in 2015. She writes stories and vignettes about life and how life itself gives us the lessons, hopes and direction we need to put our feet on higher ground. You can find her writing at elephant journal, the Kindness Blog, and on her writer’s Facebook page.

Latest posts by Carmelene Melanie Siani (see all)

(Visited 208 times, 1 visits today)