In just a few short days, the life of Moseley Girl 2.0 will begin and I have begun to reflect, maybe an attempt to prepare myself to fully absorb and appreciate the whole miraculous process of a baby arriving in this world.
As I was searching my “contacts” in MS Outlook, I noticed I had quite a few people with whom contacting would be impossible. Impossible without a Ouija Board.
My dear, sweet grandmother, Mam’maw, and her husband, Bob.
Carey’s father, whom both of us wish could have lived long enough to have known our children.
My uncle Haywood, from whom I learned the fine art of napping while watching golf on television.
My friend, Terri, who died at 40 leaving behind two darling young daughters.
A fraternity brother who committed suicide last month.
These are just a few of the dead people that still live in my database. Truth be told, I didn’t discover these today, I come across them from time to time. Sometimes seeing their names makes me smile, other times sad. Although I cannot phone, email or write them, I keep them around. Maybe in today’s fast-paced, high-tech world, I subconsciously worry that my memories of them will be erased the moment I hit the DEL key. Maybe I think it is a disrespectful act, an anti-tribute. Who knows. They’re still there.
Do you delete dead people when they die?
Cherlyn responded on 07 Aug 2008 at 9:02 am #
Chris-
I too, cannot bring myself to delete people out of my contacts after they have passed. Perhaps it is because by hitting the delete key, I truly finalize, in my head, they are gone to me here on this Earth, forever.
So, I keep them in there… And I see their names, and like you, I will laugh or smile, depending on the day.
Dad responded on 07 Aug 2008 at 9:43 am #
Very poignant observations and ones which make you ponder the uncertainties in our lives, the temporary nature of our lives here on earth, and the impact we have on those around us.
Meredith Moseley-Bennett responded on 08 Aug 2008 at 8:42 am #
I am a keeper of addresses and of mementos…I am afraid I caught that from my grandmother. Aunt Connie’s birdhouse coffee table is in our sunroom, although it will be hard to really find a space that makes it work, but I carted it all the way to New York because I think of her everyday when I see it.
To delete of not delete at work is an interesting topic as well. I run a certification program and once someone has passed the exam, his/her name is listed on the website for verification. Early this year a rigger, who I emailed with quite a bit while he was in the midst of cancer, passed away after a pretty lengthy fight. His father called and let me know, and I cried with him on the phone. Not so much for pain that I was feeling, but for the agony I knew was gripping him. He kept telling me how proud he was that his son got this certification and that it meant the world to him. I took J.W.’s name off the website, but could not bring myself to throw away his file or delete his name is Filemaker. Doing that would be saying that it was almost if he did not exist in this world.
I ended up contacting his dad once more to ask him if I could do a section in the newsletter about J.W.’s passing and two days later I got an 8×10 glossy and a very thorough obituary. I put the section in the newsletter and sent a couple of copies to his family. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really think about it much, except when I would be sorting through files - even so, it is not like I really knew this guy all that well.
In March I went to Houston for a conference and showed up to start the examination process for some candidates. I walked into the room and the proctor told me someone was waiting for me. Sitting in a chair outside the room was an 80 year old man who looked on the edge of tears. I had forgotten that he lived in Houston, but he had noticed in the newsletter that the exams were to be in his home town. I knew who he was as soon as I saw him. He had a hug for me and said that he wanted me to know how very much it meant to J.W.’s family that I had memorialized him in that way. I can tell you that I lost it right there and my mascara was finished for the day.
It really made me think, though, that putting that in the newsletter took about an hour and some change - making the calls, adjusting the print - it was a speck in a week for me. But it made a difference in that person’s life. It made enough of an impact that he took the time to track me down and thank me and that is amazing to me. I guess we just don’t realized sometimes what we do can really and truly make a difference to someone else.