Social Media Makes Strange Friendfellows

Written By: Kim - May• 01•13

About four months ago, I received a call from a woman that I did not know while I was making dinner. She was looking for someone with the same name who lived in my area. I kept sifting my memory as she was telling me her story, catching up. I wondered if early senility was setting in. I could not remember who this woman was. Donna. School, past jobs, where did I know her from? When she said something about working for a four star general at the Pentagon, that’s when I knew I did not know her. I’ve never worked for either.

© Mihaylova 2013 courtesy of stock.xchng

© Mihaylova 2013 courtesy of stock.xchng

When I politely stopped her with, “I think you have the wrong person,” she was completely flustered. She apologized profusely. I told her that I wish I were the woman she was looking for because she was trying to make amends and repair a broken relationship. I was touched by her honestly and her story. I wished her luck and we hung up. A few minutes later, Donna called me again. She asked if we could become friends on Facebook. I said yes.

I have a few friends whom I only know through social media or whom I became friends with on social media first. I know that it seems odd, cultivating a friendship with someone you have never met. But, we did as children. Remember pen pals?

Growing up a military brat forced me to make new friends every school year. This didn’t necessarily mean that I was the new one in school. But it meant that I had to be more open to strangers. I had to find a way to fit in when I was the new kid. Or, I felt compelled to help the new kid fit in. Being the new kid in school often sucks. It just does and there’s no way to get around it but to go thru it.

That said, I don’t accept friend requests from just anyone. But, I have found great joy in all my friends, no matter the source.

Moving on Without Forgetting

Written By: Kim - Sep• 08•12

I ran in to my son’s junior school counselor last week. My daughter is now a student at this school and had forgotten something in her locker. The counselor asked how my son’s first week of high school was going and I said that he was more enthusiastic about school than ever before. She then said that his class was ready to leave and move on to high school; that it was time for them to go.

At the time, I simply reflected on the fact that upper grade students are often ready to move on. Students become itchy during a transition year. But the class of 2016’s readiness in our small community may have a different motivation for leaving junior high school: two classmates died that year. One by suicide and one after an illness. And, both within a few months of each other.

Moving on to high school meant no longer entering school doors daily that reminded the class of 2016 that their friends were gone. Dealing with death is never easy. Ever. But dealing with it at such a tender age, especially when it is a peer, is almost unthinkable.

While I can only speak for our experience with my son’s friend, the seventh of every month brings Facebook comments about missing Connor Albright. It is only through her son’s death that I now know his Mom and I lend the support the only way I know how: letting her know that we have not forgotten him and that we continue to pray that God eases the burden of loss.

On Connor Albright’s birthday last month, his Mom went to his gravesite early. She posted that she just couldn’t handle visiting him on the actual day. When I read her post, I was home. I cried like a baby. Not only did it break my heart that her child was gone, but that her burden was still heavy. The loved ones he left behind were still grieving. The world is a little less brighter because he is gone and their lives changed forever. I met Connor once and he left such a wonderful impression on me. I know that he entered the hearts of everyone who knew him, my son included. To love him daily during his life was a privilege, one that I know his family felt.

My son Connor is now a freshman in high school. My husband and I are looking at each other wondering if there was some sort of fast forward on our lives. Wasn’t he just starting kindergarten? Unlike some other school years, he seems to have embraced entering high school. Like many boys, he doesn’t really seem to enjoy school other than when he socializes. I sometimes wonder if he is so willing to go on to high school because of his loss.

Along with two friends, my Connor visited Connor Albright’s grave on his birthday. They shouldered the burden of grief together, the three of them, so that someone else’s grief may be lessened slightly that day. As always, we never know the reactions our actions will have. We simply hope that what we say and do impacts someone else in a positive way.

We miss you Connor Albright. But, we’re doing our best to move on without forgetting either.