I wasn’t close with Doug, who died this week from colon cancer. It was already 4th stage at the time they discovered it, and the typical “kill or be killed” chemo approach didn’t work. By summer he was looking pretty skeletal.
My brother’s partner, Carol, is Doug’s older sister, and I know her a lot better. Great woman, deeply caring. It was tough to see her go through the same process my brother, family and I did when Dad died in 96, wasting away until he was gone.
But my point isn’t about death and dying, though it’s on my mind.
Doug’s a Facebook friend and is well-loved in this community. I’ve been reading through the wall posts, and many are touching. Some are awkward; it’s always tough to know what to say.
But it occurred to me that these posts are disappearing into the ether along with his being, and it seems a shame. I’m certain there has to be a service for that, and if there isn’t, it’s time for that. Facebook is temporary.
But these posts are timeless sentiments that serve as a reminder of how he effected other people, and their memories of him. They paint a vivid, multi-dimensional picture of him. And of course the photos people are sharing are priceless.
Let me know if you know of anything to capture these things. I know there are sites for memorials, and I’ll be checking those out because perhaps they have a way to suck this stuff in.