I like cemeteries. Not to the extent that I want to move in yet. Although I am always in the market for a good photo for my obituary. But I like wandering through cemeteries. Particularly historic ones. I am drawn to read the headstones with names and birth/death dates. For many of those interred therein with no remaining immediate descendants it is the only evidence of their existence. Imagine, those few words giving scant evidence of lives of love, hard work and accomplishment.

I take some comfort that there are three generations of my ancestors in Abbotsford’s Hazelwood cemetery. Someday there will be four (unless Pam simply puts me out with the compost to save money).

Many of my Facebook friends have passed over the last several years. Some of their profiles have been turned into memorial sites. Some I knew well, some not so well. I have a few times considered unfriending the two or three dozen friends who are deceased. I know it won’t hurt their feelings but I have resisted doing so. Partly out of respect. Partly because their continuing to be friends isn’t taking any space. And perhaps it’s a way of keeping some memory of people I respected.

Facebook presents a conundrum in this respect. Previous to the last couple of weeks I have never unfriended anyone and I still have never blocked anyone. I am a believer in free speech. But two weeks ago I decided to unfriend my first two individuals who had indicated unhappiness with my posts (they apparently didn’t know how to scroll). I thought I would solve their problem for them. Both are seeking elective office next week (hopefully unsuccessfully). They are my first unfriends. “Should I go further? “ I thought.

I thought again about the deceased friends. And I considered my own motivations for many of my posts on Facebook. Perversely, I have used Facebook as a diary. Recording events, reactions and thoughts over the last several years. Even including information about my childhood and family history. A diary. Certainly not a private one. A diary where my children can find details and understand me and their history. even after my eventual demise. For all of the negatives of Facebook and the nastiness it encourages, it provides a permanent record. Like the cemetery markers did and do.

I think I’ve decided to keep my dead friends out of respect. I just have to learn not to be disappointed when they don’t react to my posts.
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What do you do with your Facebook friends when they pass?

​I am a dinosaur. Not only do I write using full words and sentences (a rarity on social media) I have no real understanding or appreciation of the modern technological world. My sons play electronic games with people from all over the world. I hear youngest son Adam talking to fellow gamers throughout the night. My daughters interact with their friends throughout the day by various online means. For them, social isolating is not that isolating. Today I was introduced to my kids’ Tic Tok accounts. They and most of their friends have posted numerous lip sync and dance routines. Now I know what the kids are doing up in their rooms all day. Even our dog Griffin has a Tic Tok account. I feel so left behind. And yet I can’t imagine myself lip synching and doing dance routines. Imagine, a dancing dinosaur

Sad signs of aging:

1. I broke a tooth today eating a cheesie. A CHEESIE!!!
2. After breaking the tooth I did not plan to see a dentist. I simply counted my remaining teeth and divided that number by my remaining life expectancy to decide that I can afford to lose two teeth per year.
3. Not caring that in five years my smile will look like I just crawled out of a dumpster. No one will care.