Sometimes I forget that the online world is linked to the real world. I forget that my online friends have real lives. Lives that don’t include me. Lives that could end. I guess I almost think of you all as imaginary friends. I think you’ll be around forever.
Today and yesterday, I stopped that thinking.
Yesterday I woke to a message from a friend. It told me that another online friend had passed away over the weekend. Today I received an email from a mentee, someone I’d worked with weekly, someone I truly like, telling me that he had a book deal but also that he had months to live.
If it was in real life and in real time, my response would be to hug. That’s what I do. But faced with an email it’s hard to find the words. I’ve never been comfortable with goodbyes.
I guess in our online world we get used to seeing people around. There are people I tweet with daily or weekly, others who post photographs on Facebook or link to songs that make me smile. I feel like I know them. I honestly feel like they’re my friends.
Today I’ve realised that I take my online friends for granted, just as I take my own mortality for granted.
It’s a simple and obvious fact that with death people disappear offline. I guess some of us will wonder where that person has gone. We’ll tweet to them, we’ll leave a message on their blog or on their Facebook wall. But soon we’ll give up. We’ll think they’ve just had enough of the online world. Because people do.
At some point we might find out about the passing. And at some point we might not know how to react. Because no one’s written a book yet about ‘how to grieve your online friends’. One day someone will.
I doubt that when I die the first thing G will think of will be to tweet it or put it on Facebook. I’d like to think that his priorities would be to the children and to himself.
Today I almost wish that you were all imaginary friends and that I had made you all up. I’ve an overactive imagination. I’d prefer that than losing you.
I hate goodbyes.
{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
I know what you mean. We all take our own mortality for granted until something like this happens. Then it makes you look inward. I do not take my online friends for granted. I had the pleasure of meeting you, which was awesome. Sabine C, I always planned to one day fly to Malta and meet her. That time has gone. I will one day make it to Malta, she just won’t be there, just in spirit. I have made some amazing friends online. Some I was able to meet and some I hope to one day.
Sabine, the fact that our paths managed to cross when I was in LA is utterly bizarre and the chances of it seem so remote, don’t they? But we met and I cherish that. It’s been a long blogging journey! Go to Malta, you’ll love it. I think you and Sabine met on my blog, years ago now. Two Sabines! Both very beautiful x
A very thought-provoking post Caroline. I have an online friend who, last year, found she had breast cancer and I’ve been as concerned for her as I would be for real life friends. We do make close connections with people we have never and will never meet, but it makes it no less difficult when something like this happens.
I’m sorry to hear about your friends x
It’s the disappearing thing that gets to me. Please don’t go away x
I’ve tried to respond to this, and deleted all my attempts so far. I clearly haven’t been able to formulate the words as yet. Less because I’m lacking by way of a response, more that there’s a veritable spaghetti-like committee of thoughts which need to be ordered (not least, I think, because I’m reading a book which deals with love and loss, which has a no small amount of overlap and relevance here).
Just wanted, though, to note that I’ve read this, and am thinking about it, for what that’s worth.
It’s a hard one, isn’t it. Because if anything happened to you I’d probably never know and I can’t begin to tell you how sad that makes me. Soppy, yes, but honest x
My Teen regularly insists that the people I chat to on Twitter or Facebook are figments of my imagination. It may be easy to forget that they’re as normal as the people we see everyday but it’s still possible to be there with the virtual tea and sympathy - whether for the minor misfortunes of everyday life or something devastating.
Your teen knows nothing!
x
I’m sorry for the loss of your friend, and for the sad news of your other friend.
Thank you, Sarah x
I’m sending a hug for you, Caroline, because that’s what I do too. News like this is always a shock, online or off; we do forget our own mortality and other people’s until we’re forcibly reminded. But I think you’re right that it’s different online, where words are all we have. And sometimes we don’t even have those. I had a good blogfriend, years ago; we ‘met’ in 2004. She lived in America while I’m in the UK so we were never likely to meet in person, but we had a lot of contact through our blogs and emails. I knew she had serious physical health problems and one of the liveliest minds I’ve ever encountered. Then one day she just disappeared, her blog vanished, and I never heard from her again. I emailed but there was no reply. I still Google her occasionally - she had a unique name and her Blogger profile is still there but nothing else ever shows up. This was in the days before Facebook and Twitter, so - as I had no access to her blog comments - there was nobody else I could ask who might have known what had happened. I guess she died, but I’d love to know for sure.
The not knowing must be so hard and that’s exactly what I mean. We exist in another space here, don’t we? I guess we’re all already ghosts. And, yes, words, that’s all we have out in space x
I didn’t realise that you were referring to Sabine. I didn’t know her personally but I know people who did. Apparently her funeral was a beautiful affair. It’s true that we sometimes don’t give online friends the same ‘importance’ yet very often they’re the ones who listen to us the most.
Well done for the book deal. It’s always important to appreciate the silver linings too.
I am so ‘happy’ to hear that her funeral was beautiful. Thank you, so much x
I think I echo what Trousers says above, chick. I’ll also send a virtual hug on it’s way. It’s the best I can offer at the moment, wish I could do more. xx
Thanks honey x
Very sad. Reminds me of losing a work colleague - you never expect them to go away and never expect to feel so sad when they do.
Hugs x
Such a caring and poignant post Caroline. Having virtual friends is such a new experience for people in general, we are all learning how it works as we go along. I think you seem to be a good role model though - thank you! I’m sorry that you lost a friend x
Exactly - we are learning and fumbling our way through. One day it’ll all make sense. And, thank you x
It’s another world out there but with all the same emotional ups and downs as the ‘real’ world but only words to express our feelings, which is something you do beautifully. ‘Hugs’ from me who has received support from this online world and knows it’s worth.