Earlier this week, I wrote a post about my friend (whom I will not name) who had recently passed away suddenly. I guess it was okay because people were reading it, and individuals from my hometown were sharing it, giving it more visibility than anything I typically write. The post reflected my memories of him as a friend during my adolescence, not something I would say from a podium at a funeral or publish as an obituary in the newspaper. I had no intention of disrespecting or harming anyone; I simply share my memories regularly through my writing. I think I was processing the loss, in the way I process things, through writing.
Last night, his girlfriend messaged me at midnight to let me know that the post was accurate. She acknowledged that my intentions were good, but mentioned that I hadn’t been around there in so long that I didn’t know anything. She asked me to take it down. Initially, I was inclined to ignore her and leave the post up. It was late, and I was about to go back to sleep.
However, I thought about it some more. She’s in pain, likely more than I can fully comprehend. So, I decided to take it down. If removing the post brings her even a slight sense of relief, it’s the least I can do.
I rarely take anything down, even when I want to due to the cringe-worthy feeling it gives me. But all of that discomfort is about me. In this case, the post was about someone else who has passed away, and someone close to them didn’t want it out there. Therefore, it’s gone.
There are still plenty of other things to read here on my blog:
If you read any of it, and it does anything for you, you could totally buy me a coffee, and I think everyone involved would feel really good about it:
