And There Were Twenty

The cool people do Instagram. Or TikTok. I’m older, so I muck around in the Facebook swamp.

And, in my corner of the swamp, I recently did The Scroll. I scanned through the nearly 1,300 “friends” I’ve collected since joining in 2006 or 2007.

Most fun was scrolling by friends I remember well. I recalled highlights of my happiest times and the people who knew me best – from high school, college, jobs and churches, coffee klatches and more.

The swamp’s best and highest purpose is just that – nurturing ties to people from the crucible periods of our lives.

Then there were “friends” I’ve forgotten. We’d met once, casually or professionally, our connections then memorialized in our “friends” lists. Viewing a profile often dug up a memory, although sometimes not. Ouch.

Now the harder stuff: people who have died but remain Facebook friends. Former classmates, teachers, bosses, colleagues, dear friends. My mom.

Many were taken far too early. Many more taught me things – about work, life, relationships.

I initially counted 19. Then, days later, another friend died. And there were 20.