I had a friend in college who was, by many accounts, one of the nicest guys in the world. He was smart, had a wicked sense of humor and a way about him that put everyone at ease. Sure, he was a little quirky. Weren’t we all. And in him, it was endearing.
I probably would never have had contact with him again had it not been for Facebook. We had no falling out. We just didn’t cross paths and, for some reason, didn’t keep in touch. There was no event. It just happened. As it often does.
But he found me on Facebook a while back.
And we’d chat and comment on each others’ statuses. He was still a funny guy. A funny guy who loved his wife and daughters.
And then, suddenly and tragically, he died on August 25.
But there was still Facebook. The comments and outpouring of love and memories were astounding. Like a voyeur, I read what the people who were still close to him had to say and felt their sadness and loss. I wasn’t surprised that so many people loved him.
On his birthday, September 25, I got the birthday reminder on my page. He’d been gone a month already. I popped over to his page and saw all the messages to him. Part of me felt joy that his friends and family had this great outlet and, frankly, part of me felt a little skeeved out. I mean, people were still writing to him as if he could read it. It felt a little odd to me. But still, mostly good. And I know all the intent was good. I imagine that it’s comforting to his family to continue to see so many people think of him on a daily basis.
But I got this yesterday. Help make Facebook better for him.
And then today, I got the message that I hadn’t talked to him lately.
So I clicked on over to see his page and it seems that lots of people got that message. And many decided to write something on his wall.
And I’m really starting to wonder… maybe there is Facebook up there.
And maybe he really does see that his friends have held him close. And that they think about him all the time.