Grief Meets the Public

I’ve heard “I don’t do funerals” from many clients over the years. It’s often a knee jerk reaction to avoid emotional pain, but some also will add: “I want to remember them alive, not see them like that.” 

Funerals and memorial services, like all rituals, serve a greater purpose. It’s not just about respect for the deceased, support for the family, or a societal obligation. Bereavement rituals like funerals and memorials have a place in the grieving process. The action of attending the ceremony with others can imbue a sense of community. There are others who also feel the loss.

Actively participating in bereavement rituals helps people move in the grieving process. It can help bring up the emotions that need to be experienced. I’m not saying that everyone needs to sob at a funeral or memorial, but avoiding feelings will often make the loss harder to manage. Certainly, numbing the feelings  with alcohol, substances or other avoidance behaviors can complicate grief. 

Memorials in public places are ways that some people express their grief and in some ways, they have almost come to replace the funeral as an American way of grieving. 

Shrines set up roadside, or next to a building or area (i.e., field, lake) where someone died are living memorials to loved ones lost. Roadside crosses, some simple, some decorated to express the personality or favorites of the deceased are on almost every road across the country. They give loved ones a place to mark the death and in some cases, celebrate the life that was ended at that spot. 

They have become so ubiquitous in American life that we forget there is a story with every marker. 

In Niagara Falls, NY a young man was killed while driving his motorcycle in the summer of 2019. The shrine started the day after the accident when several friends met in the grassy area next to the place where he died. Soon after, a large picture was erected and it was surrounded by remembrances and solar lights so that the memorial remains  illuminated throughout the night. 

Some shrines express the grief of a community; even a nation.  After the shooting at Columbine High School on April 20, 1999, a shrine was begun by friends, classmates and families of those who died in the massacre by piling their cars that remained in the parking lot with flowers, teddy bears, and other remembrances. The memorial spread to a nearby park where it grew and for weeks afterwards people came and walked through it to remember and mourn for those killed. 

That wasn’t the first public shrine and it wasn’t the last. The images of mass shootings have become the warp in the American fabric of life and the public shrines of mourning the weft. 

These have become one of the main ways we grieve as a society. 

Organizations have grieving rituals as well. The lowering of the flag to half-mast is an official expression of grief. The custodian at my children’s elementary school did the honor of raising to full mast and then lowering when it was called for. It was a solemn expression for him, even when he didn’t know who it was for. 

The half-mast flag is a well-known, institutionalized marker of grief. Organizations often develop their own unique ways to honor and memorialize a member of their community. 

If a University of Buffalo School of Social Work student dies before graduation, the school ties a white ribbon to an empty chair at their graduation ceremony in memory of the student. 

Cycling communities across the country have a tradition of leaving a white “ghost” bike as a marker of the death of a cyclist who died while riding. 


Memorials have gone digital as well. Facebook offers family members the ability to memorialize a person’s page after they have died. It enables people to continue to post images, memories and photos to the page. 

Video memorials that might have been created for a funeral often get posted to YouTube and remain a public memorial to a loved one. Meet Stacey Jayne Taylor who died from cancer in 2016. 

There is an active memorial group on Facebook called the “COUNTERfit Harm Reduction Program’s Drug Users Memorial Project.”  It “was established in 2010 as a remembrance, healing and community arts initiative to commemorate loved ones who have died in the War on Drugs.” The group sets up memorial events for people to honor and grieve those who have died from drug use. 

    This is a small handful of examples of public grieving. When you think about it, grief is everywhere in small and large symbols that run seamlessly through our daily lives. It affects you more when the roadside shrine you drive by every day is your loved one; or the ghost bike memorializes your friend. But it would help us all normalize and destigmatize expressions of emotions, especially related to grief, if we took a second to nod to that random shrine and wonder who the person was or who they left behind, or notice the flag at half-mast and think about the grieving friends and family, or the flowers woven into a chain link fence and smile at the love they represent. 

And the next time someone says, “I don’t do funerals” maybe give a little push back; offer to support them at the service and encourage them to find a way to express that love, pain and loss in some way.  

Grief Meets Facebook

My mother died in 2011 and every year, on the anniversary of her death I would post a picture of her and write a memorial on Facebook. It helped me grieve, year after year, being able to tell the story of her death and share parts of her life with my friends. And every year, people would comment words of support and add their memories to my post. 

It never occurred to me that Facebook was collecting information about me and my friends through that post. 

Photo by Mario Purisic

Grieving for a loved one should be able to be carried out in a sacred, safe space. Big Brother, or rather, Big Data, shouldn’t interfere with it, but for the millions who express and process their grief on social media, underneath it all, data continues to be collected and expressed through the algorithms used by social media platforms. 

Ever google something on your computer and then every time you open your Facebook account there is an ad for whatever you searched for? Or something similar? It’s disconcerting at best, and to many people, it feels invasive. 

Since the beginning of Facebook there have been issues with privacy and this article from NBC sets out an interesting timeline. 

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/social-media/timeline-facebook-s-privacy-issues-its-responses-n859651

So what’s a Facebook griever to do? There are many grief discussion forums (check back next week for a listing of online grief resources) where you can connect with others who are similarly grieving, but the discussion boards don’t have the same convenience, interactibility and, well, ubiquitousness like Facebook does (you can check your grief group postings and wish your non-grieving friend happy birthday all in the same place). It’s an easy app on your phone or tablet and has all those features we love — remembers you every time you log in, sorts your feed for you so you see things that interest you. . .  

Oh, wait a minute. 

That’s right. Big Data likes your information and wants to help you. Whether you want that help or not. 

Is there such a thing as too much grieving? What if you are searching for places to process your grief, find a local grief group, and find a grief counselor. You’re googling all these things and we know how much Facebook and Google like each other. Is it possible that your feed could become too sad? Filled with too much grieving? 

Everyone’s grief journey is different but an interesting grief theory called Dual Processing Model talks about how it’s important to spend time grieving and equally important to spend time doing other things. In the beginning, after your loved one dies, “other things” might consist of showering, eating, and distracting yourself with cute animal videos. Later on it might be reading articles about politics (well, maybe not), playing games, or spending time with friends and family.  The trick is, you don’t want to completely avoid grieving, and you also don’t want to grieve at the expense of life. It’s trying to find the right spot for you at the time you are in. Could Big Data and Facebook algorithms interfere with that? It’s possible. 

Is there a solution? The simplest solution to avoiding all of your Facebook data being collected and used to, uh, help you, is to delete your Facebook account. That will prevent any future data being collected and mined for information, but it doesn’t get rid of the data they have already collected. 

At the risk of sounding like Facebook is an awful place to be, I do think one of the wonderful things about it is that they have enabled it so a person’s page can continue as a memorial space after they die. People can leave messages, pictures and communicate with others in ways that are supportive to the grievers. Grieving in a community (online and/or IRL) is one of the most helpful ways to traverse the grief path. Online spaces like Facebook provide a space for that kind of community that can be incredibly helpful. 

#griefepidemic

The fact that there is an opioid epidemic in the U.S. is not news. However, the grief epidemic that reverberates like aftershocks from an earthquake does not get much attention. 

Should it? 

The Center for Disease Control reports that over 702,000 people died in the U.S. from drug overdoses between the years 1999 and 2017. In 2017 alone, the estimate is 70,000 people died from overdoses of substances. 

Let’s assume an average of 5 people were significantly impacted by the death of each of those who died in 2017. That is approximately 350,000 that have been affected by those overdose deaths. 

That is a grief epidemic. 

Photo credit: Sydney Angove

Grief isn’t just about funerals, cemeteries, tears and sadness. Grief can negatively impact physical health, mental health, work productivity,and  relationships. 

Also, there is some research that supports the theory that experiencing grief increases the risk of addiction or relapse and while the understandable focus has been on how to stop the deaths, maybe we also need to provide assistance for this specialized grief both individually and as a community at large. 

I’ve tried to find some other historical phenomenon or event that is similar to this one. The only thing I can think of is the AIDs epidemic or war. The sheer number of deaths and the devastation on those left behind. 

Would a national memorial project similar to the AIDs Quilt Project help? Would it give people a public arena to express their grief? 

At this point in time I have more questions than answers. Do we make a grief group part of regular substance use treatment? If we did, what would it look like? If someone does not want to grieve in a traditional way, how can we encourage someone to do that, knowing that it helps so many others. 

What about the children? The highest rates of deaths from opiate overdose are between the ages of 25 and 54. I don’t have a source to support it but wouldn’t that be prime child-raising years? How many children have been left behind to grieve their mother or father from overdose? How will that affect them over the course of their life? 

So many questions…