Two things on the agenda today:
- Explain my dumbass move I made the other day and how it caused my mom to cry for two hours this afternoon
- Talk about another dumbass and get something off my chest…I do that a lot.
First thing is first. Today, for the first time in the past ten or more years, my actions caused my mother to sob uncontrollably for about two hours while I apologized over and over and over again. Let me first say this: My intentions were completely good. I made a mistake that I had no idea a person could even make, and the reason my mother was so upset will probably sound very silly to many people. But me? I feel fucking horrible. Here’s what happened…
My grandmother died 4 years ago, the day after Thanksgiving. It was both expected and unexpected. Expected in the way that the doctors told us my grandmother only had about a week left to live, so after Thanksgiving dinner instead of sitting around and sleeping…we were moving furniture around to make room for her deathbed. It was unexpected in the way that the next morning, I got a phone call from my mom that my grandma passed away 5 minutes earlier. All in all, it was a sad fucking day. The next week we both (my mother and I) walked around like really productive zombies; we got shit done on loads of Xanax. Just a real sad time. Let’s skip to the middle of last week…
My grandmother had a Facebook page. She played with her little digital cat games and did cute stuff like type “Send email to cousin,” as her Facebook status because she thought that’s how it worked. After she died, my mom used that page as sort of a place to go on every once in a while and just get out how much she missed her mom. It was my mom’s way of making herself feel better and maybe more connected to my grandmother. So imagine my surprise when I wake up last Thursday morning and receive a friend request from…this is where drums should roll, but I don’t have any so…
My grandmother. My dead grandmother. My dead for four years grandmother. My “I know she is dead because I saw her after she died,” dead for four years, dead grandmother.
That first few seconds I saw this request, I’m not gonna lie, I cried. It was a shock and fucking freaky as hell. Before I knew what I was doing, I was calling my mother and asking her if she had something to tell me. Something important. Something mind fucking blowing. She answered with a quiet no, in which I responded with, “Well, you go to church now, any new updates like…I don’t know…they have Facebook now up there?” And then I proceeded to tell her what was going on.
All jokes aside, we felt very violated. We probably felt more violated than we would have if my grandmother was still alive and this happened…but it was worse because even if this stupid fuck had no idea that my grandmother was dead, she was and four years later we are getting requests from her to be our friend. Let’s not mention all of the other elderly family members freaking out and calling us to ask why she is sending them friend requests as well. It is actually amazing that completely rational people all jump to the same conclusion (myself included) when something like this happens. Instead of thinking that some dumb random fuck has decided to make a fake page for whatever reason, our collective first thoughts were of the possibility that my grandma was on some special island that just got access to Facebook.
Anyhow, I contacted Facebook. The story of Facebook and how plain stupid their “customer service” section is, is a whole new topic for a whole new day. I reported the page. Let me touch on that for a moment.
I reported the page, but I had to report it in a way that was basically me saying I was reporting it for someone else. And then they asked me why the person I was reporting it for couldn’t report in themselves…and the only thing I knew to say was: Because she’s dead.
I reported the page and later that day, it was deleted. A couple days later, another fucking page and friend request pops up from my grandmother. Now me and all of the normally rational elderly people are SURE my grandma is totally on some island with brand new access to Facebook and fucking with us. But once again, I stepped outside of The X Files and reported the page again…this time I THOUGHT I was being smart and tried to log into my grandmother’s real Facebook account to let her friends know that:
- Yes, she is still deceased…even though we all wish she wasn’t
- That if the receive anymore friend requests from a different page under her name to just report it
Well…….apparently the possible passwords my mother had for my grandmother were incorrect and I could not log in. Not only could I not log in but there was a message that said the page would be deleted if someone with the correct password did not log on within the next few days, or something like that…I can’t remember. I rushed to immediately contact Facebook again and beg them not to delete the page. Their response? Basically, welp we can’t help you.
Facebook, you motherfuckers, you are a billion dollar company based on internet and computer technology. The only thing I can sum this up with is:
Harry: And this is the best that you-that Facebook, the Facebook company could come up with? I mean, you’re Facebook for crying out loud, you connect the world, you’re geniuses! You’re the guys that’re thinking shit up! I’m sure you got a team of men sitting around somewhere right now just thinking shit up and somebody backing them up! You’re telling me you don’t have a backup plan, that these rules right here [gestures to the warning that the page will be deleted], that is the world’s hope, that’s what you’re telling me?
-Harry Stamper in Armageddon (I switched out some words with Facebook…you’re welcome.)
I got no response back, and this afternoon my mother called me sobbing because my grandmother’s real Facebook page was deleted. Gone. No way to get it back. Just like my grandmother.
And I am a dumbass. And I feel like shit. And that is my story of how my Tuesday went from shiny to shitty. The other rant I was going to make, I will save that for another day.
Thank you for being my sounding board and my public diary…and remember:
If someone you love dies, get all of their passwords. ALL. OF. THEM. Otherwise, people just go around deleting pages and shit.