Somehow Instagram has become even more unbearable during this fuckery. Without being able to see people anymore, we don't know if anyone still likes us. So we fire up the validation machine, and see if we still have our fastball on Instagram. Likes are like confidence currency, and the town beggars are the "Happy Birthday In Heaven [Insert Deceased Family Member]" crowd.
I hate them. I'm sorry, I just do. The day your loved one dies and you post it, fine. It's your way to memorialize them and I respect that. I'll probably even throw you a like. I personally wouldn't post that, but I recognize that everybody grieves in their own way. Even their first birthday or holiday or whatever in that first year without them, I'll give you all the passes needed. But my tolerance for mourning ends after one year. No more Happy Birthday In Heaven posts, Nana's been dead for six years it's time to move on. Now you're just chasing that initial high from the amount of notifications you received from your first bereavement post.
They can't say thank you to your "Happy Birthday", so who are you saying it for? Yourself.
They can't say thank you to your "Happy Birthday", so who are you saying it for? Yourself.
They say you die twice. The first time when you stop breathing, and the second time a bit later on, when someone says your name for the last time. But wouldn't you want to speed that process up if you knew your shitty grandchild was parading you around on Instagram in a hospital gown, at the ugliest stage in your life, just to see if their crush cares about them enough to like the post? I know I would.
You're supposed to witness your grandparents death. If you don't, something went horribly wrong and you died before them. For many of us, the loss of a grandparent is your first lesson in mortality. Your grandparents' final gift is how to cope with love and loss. So don't let them die in vain and fucking cope with it. No more Happy Birthday In Heaven posts.
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