Facebook as therapy?

I have thought about writing about Samantha many times, but haven't been able to bring myself to do it yet. Mainly because every time I try, I cry instead. (See, I just had to take a three minute break.) One day I will write about her and what she meant to us all, but not yet.

Instead, this is about something I have found fascinating over the last few weeks. Samantha, like all 21 year olds, had a facebook page and very kindly allowed her old, un-hip relatives to be her friends. In the days right after the accident, there was the expected outpouring of grief on her page, as family and friends posted their reactions to her loss. I visited her page that week and was moved reading what everyone else had written. It was nice to know that she had been so loved and I felt comforted.

What surprised me was when I returned to her page a month later. Facebook had suggested I write on her wall and I found myself wanting to connect to her in some way as we reached the one month anniversary of her death. I wrote her a message and it was oddly soothing. It felt like visiting her grave and talking to her, as if part of her essence was there among her lists of favorite music, goofy tattoos and random thoughts. As I finished, I suddenly realized that I was not alone in visiting her there. Several friends and family members had done the same, prompted either by habit or a similar note from Facebook. Again, it was comforting to read about other memories of Sam and know I was not alone in still missing her.

I returned again tonight, prompted this time by a graduation photo a friend of hers had tagged and posted. I was less surprised to see there were more posts, but noted another change in that some of them now referenced other posts on the page. Samantha's Facebook page has become a place where those who miss her can connect not just to her, but to each other, lessening the feeling of isolation that grief can bring.

I'm sure all this will pass as our grief becomes less immediate and Samantha's page will come to a natural end. For now, however, it is nice to know that I am not alone in being unable to imagine a world without her beautiful smile.