As so many others
I have known, I fought it for a while, but many of us—across generations,
genders, socioeconomic groups, races, cultures, and subcultures—eventually wind
up joining some sort of online social network and/or creating a personal or
family web page. For some, it is an additional way to communicate with loved
ones, distant and near; for others, it is a way to meet new people and/or
network for employment and business; and for many, it is a way to feel a sense
of community and to have an opportunity to express themselves and connect with
others without the limitations and social constructs and, perhaps, discomfort
and awkwardness that in-person communication may indicate. Given the explosion of popularity of online communities, the
growing creation of and participation in web memorials and virtual cemeteries
as a bereavement ritual comes as no surprise. This relatively new
phenomenon not only indicates a circular pattern of grief and its need for a
voice in today’s linear and cacophonous society, but it also begets questions
regarding social isolationism versus healthy interpersonal relationships in the midst of grief. These are the concepts addressed by Brian de
Vries and Judy Rutherford in “Memorializing Loved Ones on the World Wide Web”
(2004) and by Pamela Roberts in “The Living and the Dead: Community in the
Virtual Cemetery” (2004).
Grief needs a
voice. It needs a safe place to be heard—an accepting place and a patient
place. Additionally, given the highly mobile culture in which we live, it needs
someplace widely accessible. The creation of web memorials and virtual
cemeteries as a grieving ritual fits postmodern society like a glove. As
discussed by de Vries and Rutherford, unlike the highly communal sense of loss
and grief reminiscent of colonial America, grief is now more commonly seen as
an individual, personal affliction with a limited window for open expression.
The Internet provides a valuable opportunity to grieve within a supportive,
highly accessible (albeit virtual) community and process the loss without concern for whether or not the grief fits current social expectations
of emotional display, length of grief, who ‘should’ grieve, and who
‘should’ be grieved. Web memorials provide a ritual to address the
circular grief that society at large no longer seems necessarily capable of
supporting.
The virtual
community feeds the need to talk about the loss—even to talk to the lost—and
allows the bereaved to process their feelings and participate in catharsis without the sense that they could be burdening others with their grief.
Cyberspace is a perfect postmodern venue for maintaining relationships with our
deceased loved ones without judgment. It is a “way to stay connected, no matter
the distance or time” (p. 65). Evidence also indicates that this new ritual
does not generally foster isolationism and is not a manifestation of clinical maladies,
but is, instead, another way to remember and honor lost loved ones with the
support of other families and individuals. Web memorials are interactive
communities where people are able to share stories, ideas, comfort and support
in the midst of difficult times.
Cyberspace offers
a much-needed community, including the four elements described
by McMillan and Chavis that are key to creating a psychological community:
membership, influence, integration and fulfillment of needs, and shared
emotional connection (1986, as cited by Roberts). Provided online is a place
for the disenfranchised mourner, a virtual ear for the stories of the bereaved,
and an accessible quiet venue for remembrance. While these communities may not
be physical, the psychological and emotional connections that are made are no
less real for those who visit them.
Considering
disenfranchised mourners, I cannot help but think of my dad as an example. When
my former stepmother (they had divorced) passed away in 2003, her body was
cremated, the ashes were scattered at Lady Bird Lake (amid a host of poison
ivy); and she specifically required that my dad be barred from any of her
funeral proceedings. I suppose she was so finished with the idea of my dad that
she wanted distance in life and in death. I
can only speculate on her reasons, but the end result is the same: my dad’s
grief, to this day, has been left stunted. My dad even jokes at the idea
that the ashes were intentionally spread in poison ivy as an additional
safeguard against visiting the memory of my stepmom! Perhaps, given my dad's pariah status in the community of her ex-wife, grief could be unravelled and processed and supported via website. Maybe Dad could find that there is more support and connection than previously assumed. Maybe the lines of
communication stemming from that marital history could be reconnected and healed.
“Online communication becomes not a substitute for direct communication, but
rather an aid in communicating both on and off line” (p. 72).
References
De
Vries, B., Rutherford, J. (2004). Memorializing loved ones on the world wide
web. Omega—The Journal of Death and Dying, 49(1), 5-26.
Roberts,
P. (2004). The living and the dead: Community in the virtual cemetery. Omega—The
Journal of Death and Dying, 49(1),
57-76.
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