Tag: obituary

Things My Obituary Won’t Say

Valerie Lanard Leave a comment
  • She was a terrible friend, but very codependent. Only truly happy in the company of others.
  • Her kitchen should have had a Michelin star for its creations.
  • Despite not believing in herself, she had amazing on-stage presence and lived for the spotlight and podium.
  • Perpetually late and hater of mornings.
  • Every day she drank a huge glass of milk, between meals of cucumbers & fast food.
  • Never met a dog she liked.
  • Immediately warm to strangers, but an utter teetotaler who abstained most of all from caffeine.
  • Extremely unloyal, traded jobs & friends like last year’s fashions.
  • Lover of rolling in grass, dusty rooms, hairballs from all breed of animal.
  • The patience of a saint, wonderful most notably with toddlers.
  • Avid board game player who never met a tabloid she didn’t buy.
  • Wearer of expensive perfume and elegant lady shoes (the higher the heel the better).
  • Never cracked a book except to see if it had pictures.
  • Utterly risk averse. Unwilling to go for her dreams, lest she never be hired again.

How will you NOT be remembered? Happy Friday!

The deceased live on LinkedIn

Valerie Lanard Leave a comment

In the relatively young landscape of social media, one awkward area has to do with the accounts of the deceased on LinkedIn.

I now have 2 friends on LinkedIn who have died unexpectedly young. Both are still active on LinkedIn, and show up as still working at their last job. I dread the day that I am prompted to Congratulate one of them on their n-year anniversary at their ‘current’ employer. As time goes on, the number of dead on social networks will inevitably grow. And grow.

There’s a part of me that rejoices in seeing my friends’ names again, having a way to visit their pages and feel the idle connection come alive. But on the heels of that feeling comes the inevitable knife-in-the-gut, the remembrance of the loss: a cruel, insensitive reminder.

LinkedIn provides a way for members to report accounts of the deceased to initiate account shutdown. Generally, I would hope that a family member would get to make this decision, and not a colleague.

These accounts are living epitaphs. Miss you guys.