Mourning in the 21st Century: Death and Social Media

When news broke this week of Whitney Houston’s death, how did you find out?  I bet it was either Facebook or Twitter, right?  All it takes is one tweet or status update, and like a match to a bucket full of gasoline, the news explodes.  But this isn’t just the celebration of a monster slam dunk or an unknown kid playing guitar, this is the announcement of someone’s death.  Such announcements used to be reserved for page A3 of your local newspaper, or for those more famous, the lead story on the local news.  By no means did half the world know of someone’s passing within 30 minutes of their death.

Social media has undoubtedly had an effect on how we live our lives—from making friends, to having debates, to dating. But when it comes to dealing with death, deciding social media’s impact as good or not is a very personal decision. For me I believe it is good.  It takes what used to only occur in funeral homes, greeting cards or cramped hospital rooms, and brings together family, friends and communities to mourn, celebrate and grieve, together.

Eight years ago this month, I sat with my family around the bed of my Grandfather as he passed away.  Our grieving made easier by the sharing of stories of his great life.  We laughed, we cried, we laughed some more.  I swear the hospital staff thought we were loony.  The days following his death were hard, but the memory of that cramped hospital room is what I remember most.  It’s what helped me get over the emptiness his loss brought, and to look ahead at celebrating his life.  This memory resurfaced last month following the death of Penn State football legend Joe Paterno.  (Full Disclosure:  I am a Penn State grad and pretty much bleed blue and white)  I was sad—more for how his last months on Earth were spent, than anything else.  What made the grieving easier, however, was reading through page after page of Facebook statuses, comments and messages from thousands of others going through the same range of emotions as I was, and contributing my feelings as well.  I was comforted by these stories of a man who lived a full life—only this time, instead of being surrounded by my family, I was surrounded by a laptop screen, a cup of coffee and a few hundred Facebook friends.  The feeling of comfort, though, was the same.

Beyond just the announcement of a death and the sharing of memories, there is the “digital imprint” a person leaves behind in social networks.  A few years ago a friend died of cancer, and to this day his Facebook profile remains active.  People still comment on his wall, creating a shrine to his life—the digital version of a preserved bedroom or roadside collection of flowers and cards.  But while the bedroom is sold-away with the house or the roadside flowers wither away, the Facebook profile remains as active as when that person was alive.  (Facebook is even enabling profiles to become memorials after the person’s death.)  When we look at how we remember and honor those that die, social media knows no fame, either.  You can create a Facebook page for Joe Nobody just as quickly as you can for Joe Paterno.   The opportunity to memorialize a loved one so as to cope with their loss is equal because of the level playing field social media provides.

What do you think?  Does death and mourning have a place on social networks?  Let us know your thoughts in the comment section of this post.