Yesterday, I got a text from my friend, Shirley. Though our friendship began online, she quickly “graduated” from a virtual friend to a real friend—long before we ever met in person.
In her text, Shirley told me that she was grieving for a friend who had died. She introduced me to a term I wasn’t aware of, “Cybergrief” and included a hyperlink to an article about the topic.
Cybergrief
A quick Google search led me to this definition::
Cybergrief is the natural emotional response to a cyberloss, which is the death of someone who was known primarily through an online connection. It’s a legitimate form of grief, distinct from offline losses, though it shares many core human aspects of mourning. Unique challenges include a lack of social empathy for these online losses and the complexity of navigating public mourning on social media, according to The New York Times.
Grief of any sort is tough to navigate, but as the article and the definition describes, cybergrief also has the complication of societal norms and judgments.
As is the case when I hear about any kind of “societal norms or judgments,” I can feel my own judgment meter going up against the judgers! No one should be judged for who they grieve, how they grieve, or how long they grieve! Isn’t it bad enough to be grieving at all without having the additional complication of feeling judged for it?
I guess another trigger for me is the implication that “virtual friends” are not “real friends.” I’ll admit, declaring romantic love for someone you’ve only met online might be premature (and I know a few relationships that didn’t survive that test). That being said, I know people can have deep and meaningful friendships with people who they haven’t met in real life.
When is a friendship “real”?
Many people think a relationship isn’t “real” until two people meet in person. I disagree. To me, a relationship is real when two real people are communicating honestly. Sometimes, that kind of connection can even be deeper than what happens face-to-face.
Shirley and I first met virtually because we were both bloggers. We’d both subscribed to a group that included prompts for bloggers. This was December, 2010, the month that my friend, Craig Dunham, died from ALS. My blog posts centered around my grief and the amazing influence Craig had on my life.
Looking back, I realize that our friendship itself was born out of grief — and healing through Shirley’s deep and genuine empathy.
In this post, I respond to the prompt: What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?
I write about my new virtual friend, Shirley, and include this paragraph:
Shirley acknowledged and honored the grief I’ve been feeling about my friend, Craig. She read many of the posts I’d written about him and told me that she was moved to tears. It’s hard to describe how warm and wonderful it feels to have someone — a stranger — tell you that. It makes me feel like I kept a little part of Craig alive. Grief is a very hard emotion… we feel so sad… but if we can somehow just take that love that we lost and keep it alive by sharing it with someone else… and they “get it”… they truly get how wonderful and special that person was, even without knowing him or her personally… we feel like that love is still amongst us.
Shirley and I ended up meeting virtually weekly with two other blogger friends. We also met 1:1 virtually via Zoom several times and in person a few times even though I live in Colorado and she lives in San Francisco.
Shirley is the type of friend who is supportive, responsive, caring and understanding. Sure, meeting physically adds to the friendship, but the friendship was there because she was genuine from her first lovely message.
Grief for people we’ve never met
This week many people are grieving for Jane Goodall. I’m not sure if this fits into the same category as “cybergrief” but I know I feel a sense of grief when someone I admire dies, even if I never met them. It just feels so sad that they are no longer here, on this earth, bringing joy to others (and the animal kingdom!).
Jane Goodall reminds me of another great friend, Becky Burns. In this old post, I write about Becky’s great communication skills with people and with animals. Once a boy asked her if she was Jane Goodall!
I know Becky was especially hit hard with the death of Jane Goodall, someone she’s always deeply admired.
Virtual friendships and grief in retirement
In these retirement years, they say friendships are more difficult to make. Partly, that’s because many of our friends originated from our work life. It also may be because we are more limited in the social functions we can attend.
Certainly, I’ve found the ability to connect with people virtually to be a wonderful perk of living in this day and age! (But, then again, I’ve always been a bit of an introverted geek.)
In the end, both friendship and grief are personal. They’re about love and admiration, not about how often we’ve met in person. Our friendships and grief should never be judged as “not real” by society. Only we can judge the depth of our feelings about our emotions or our relationships.
Grief is so difficult, but something, I’m afraid, that is one of the downsides of aging. Our “real” friends (whether in person or virtual) are there for us, help us through the pain, and bring us the joy of being seen and understood.
Whether our friends live down the street or on the other side of a screen, what matters most is that we show up for one another — with empathy, honesty, and love.