She walked into our office for one reason and one reason only—to confirm her father’s death. Or perhaps what she really wanted was to confirm that the Facebook post she had seen wasn’t true.  She still had hope it was a mistake . . . until she asked her question and the secretary answered.  And then she sobbed.  She more than sobbed.  There is not a word in the English language strong enough to convey the depth of her grief at that moment.

His passing was a shock to her, more so because there had been no notification in the middle of the night. She lives in the twilight zone of cell phone service and, with no land line, no one could contact her.  No one could let her know.  No one that is, except Facebook.  And it did, by means of someone immediately posting condolences without thinking that perhaps not everyone knew.

We are mired up to our eyeballs in the age of social media. If it isn’t Facebook, it’s Twitter or Snapchat or Instagram or goodness only knows what else—and every one of those, and so many others, can be used for good.  They allow us to reconnect with old friends, to locate those with whom we’ve lost contact and to remain in touch.  It can help us spread the word about community events and fundraisers, birthday parties and anniversaries.  With the swipe of a finger and a few taps on a keyboard, we can hold the world in our hands; that’s an awesome power to have and, unfortunately, one that people all too often use without thinking.

When someone dies and they have a large, extended family or many close friends, it doesn’t need to be a text message or a Facebook post that offers them the first clue something terrible has happened. And when family members learn of the death (often immediately because they are present) their first thought isn’t to get on the phone and tell everyone else who needs to know.  There is a process that occurs, a series of steps that must be completed before anyone can move on to telling others of the loss.  The initial shock—which is present no matter the cause or length of time involved—must be overcome.  The flood of grief that rushes in must be allowed free rein, even if only for a brief period of time, and then brought under control before others can be drawn into its circle.  In other words, to be quite blunt about the whole thing, often those who are closest have to catch their breath, cry their eyes out, and prepare to face their family and friends with a reality they don’t want, can’t accept, and absolutely hate.

All of that can happen in the blink of an eye . . . or take hours to occur. The problem is, those of us on the outside looking in don’t know what the time frame actually is.  So when you jump the gun and post about someone’s demise before the family even knows, you haven’t done anyone any favors.  As a matter of fact, you’ve only made matters that much worse.

Unfortunately, there are a great many folks in this world who have to be the first one—the first one to text, the first one to post, the first one looking for a reaction so they can be part of the process even though they really aren’t. I will never understand the need to be the bearer of bad news, the desire to be the first one to spread something, even if it is true. In that instance it’s more about ego than offering support, and there’s no place for ego when Death comes to call.  I know that those people will not care about anything other than their own importance, so as far as they’re concerned, I’m blowing off steam and basically wasting a lot of words and space.

However, there are those who are truly sorrowful and want to let the family know they are there for them, whatever the need might be. To those people, please allow me to offer a few guidelines for posting condolences and messages of support.

Before you mention someone’s death on Facebook or Twitter or much of anywhere else that can circle the globe before you blink, stop. If you know members of the family or close friends, check their newsfeeds or accounts.  Have they mentioned their loss?  Then by all means, respond accordingly.  Is their personal cyber space void of any reference to the news you have?  Then remain silent.  There is a good possibility they do not know and if that is the case, it is not up to you to tell them by expressing sorrow over a death they know nothing about.  That news needs to come from some source other than social media.  And if they do know and have chosen not to post anything, that should be a big clue that you don’t need to, either.

So what it boils down to is this. For goodness sake . . . and the sake of those family members and friends who haven’t been given the news you have somehow magically acquired . . . don’t let grabbing your phone be your first reaction.  If you truly care, then take the time necessary to be certain you aren’t going to make their grief that much greater.

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