This article originally appeared on 05.07.19
Grieving in the technology age is uncharted territory.
I'll take you back to Saturday, June 9, 2012. At 8:20 a.m., my 36-year-old husband was pronounced dead at a hospital just outside Washington, D.C.
By 9:20 a.m., my cellphone would not stop ringing or text-alerting me long enough for me to make the necessary calls that I needed to make: people like immediate family, primary-care doctors to discuss death certificates and autopsies, funeral homes to discuss picking him up, and so on. Real things, important things, time-sensitive, urgent things.Real things, important things, time-sensitive, urgent things.
At 9:47 a.m., while speaking to a police officer (because yes, when your spouse dies, you must be questioned by the police immediately), one call did make it through. I didn't recognize the number. But in those moments, I knew I should break my normal rule and answer all calls. “He's dead??? Oh my God. Who's with you? Are you OK? Why am I reading this on Facebook? Taya, what the heck is going on?"
Facebook? I was confused. I hadn't been on Facebook since the day before, so I certainly hadn't taken the time in the last 90 minutes to peek at the site.
“I'll call you back", I screamed and hung up. I called my best friend and asked her to search for anything someone might have written and to contact them immediately and demand they delete it. I still hadn't spoken to his best friend, or his godsister, or our godchild's parents, or a million other people! Why would someone post it to Facebook SO FAST?
While I can in no way speak for the entire planet, I certainly feel qualified to propose some suggestions — or, dare I say, rules — for social media grieving.
How many RIPs have you seen floating through your social media stream over the last month? Probably a few. Death is a fate that we will each meet at some point. The Information Age has changed the ways in which we live and communicate daily, yet there are still large voids in universally accepted norms.
This next statement is something that is impossible to understand unless you've been through it:
There is a hierarchy of grief.
Yes, a hierarchy. It's something people either don't understand or understand but don't want to think or talk about — yet we must.
There is a hierarchy of grief.
Hierarchy is defined as:
- a system or organization in which people or groups are ranked one above the other according to status or authority, and
- an arrangement or classification of things according to relative importance or inclusiveness.
What does this mean as it relates to grief? Let me explain. When someone dies — whether suddenly or after a prolonged illness, via natural causes or an unnatural fate, a young person in their prime or an elderly person with more memories behind them than ahead — there is one universal truth : The ripples of people who are affected is vast and, at times, largely unknown to all other parties.
A death is always a gut punch with varying degrees of force and a reminder of our own mortality. Most people are moved to express their love for the deceased by showing their support to the family and friends left behind.
In the days before social media, these expressions came in the form of phone calls, voicemail messages, and floral deliveries.
If you were lucky enough to be in close proximity to the family of the newly deceased, there were visits that came wrapped with hugs and tears, and deliveries of food and beverages to feed all the weary souls.
Insert social media. All of those courtesies still occur, but there is a new layer of grief expression — the online tribute in the form of Facebook posts, Instagram photo collages, and short tweets.
What's the problem with that? Shouldn't people be allowed to express their love, care, concern, support, and prayers for the soul of the recently deceased and for their family?
Yes.
And no.
Why? Because there are no established “rules," and people have adopted their own. This isn't breaking news, and you're not trying to scoop TMZ. Listen, I know you're hurt. Guess what? Me too. I know you're shocked. Guess what? Me too. Your social media is an extension of who you are. I get it. You “need" to express your pain, acknowledge your relationship with the deceased, and pray for the family.
Yes.
However...
Please give us a minute.
We are shocked.
We are heartbroken.
Give the immediate family or circle a little time to handle the immediate and time-sensitive “business" related to death. In the minutes and early hours after someone passes away, social media is most likely the last thing on their minds. And even if it does cross their mind, my earlier statement comes into play here.
There is a hierarchy of grief.
Please pause and consider your role and relationship to the newly deceased. Remember, hierarchy refers to your status and your relative importance to the deceased. I caution you to wait and then wait a little longer before posting anything. This may seem trivial, silly, and not worth talking about, but I promise you it isn't.
If the person is married, let the spouse post first.
If the person is “young" and single, let the partner, parents, or siblings post first.
If the person is “old" and single, let the children post first.
If you can't identify the family/inner circle of the person, you probably shouldn't be posting at all.
Do you get where I'm going with this?
In theory, we should never compare grief levels, cast the grief-stricken survivors into roles, or use words like status and importance. But maybe we need to at this moment (and for the next few weeks and months).
The “RIP" posts started hitting my timeline about an hour after my husband's death, and I certainly didn't start them. This created a sense of confusion, fear, anxiety, panic, dread, and shock for the people who knew me, too. What's wrong? Who are we praying for? Did something happen? Did someone pass? Why are there RIPs on your wall and I can't reach you? Call me please! What's going on?
That's a small sample of messages on my voicemail and text inbox. I had to take a minute in the midst of it all to ask a friend to post a status to my Facebook page on my behalf.
Your love and expressions of support are appreciated and needed, but they can also be ill-timed and create unintended additional stress.
The person is no less dead and your sympathy no less heartfelt if your post, photo, or tweet is delayed by a few hours. Honestly, the first couple of hours are shocking, and many things are a blur. Most bereaved people will be able to truly appreciate your love, concern, prayers, and gestures after the first 24 hours.
I've learned this from the inside — twice within the last four years. And I assure you that if we each adopted a little patience and restraint in this area, we would help those who are in the darkest hours of their lives by not adding an unnecessary layer of stress.
A few extra hours could make all the difference.
Ketel Marte was brought to tears during an MLB game after facing a shameful fan taunt.
Baseball manager's poignant support for a player brought to tears after shameful fan taunt
Whether they’re expecting perfection from their favorite players or, worse, behaving callously toward opposing teams, sports fans often forget that athletes are human beings. But athletic competition has the ability to unify and uplift, even amid such painful and unpleasant encounters. Take, for example, a major-league baseball game held June 24, 2025 between the home team Chicago White Sox and visiting Arizona Diamondbacks.
A shameful low point occurred when Diamondbacks second baseman Ketel Marte was at bat in the seventh inning. Per ESPN, a fan reportedly yelled out a comment regarding Marte’s late mother, Elpidia Valdez, who died in a 2017 car accident in the Dominican Republic. Team personnel, including manager Torey Lovullo, then requested the 22-year-old fan be ejected. (Though he was remorseful and admitted his actions were inappropriate, according to an ESPN source, he was nonetheless banned indefinitely from all MLB ballparks.) "We commend the White Sox for taking immediate action in removing the fan," the MLB said in a statement. Marte reportedly declined to comment.
- YouTubewww.youtube.com
While the fan’s behavior is inexcusable, it did spark a powerful and inspiring moment. After hearing the comment, Marte was visibly upset, prompting Lovullo to walk on the field, put his arm around him, and offer some words of encouragement. "[I said,] 'I love you, and I’m with you, and we’re all together, and you’re not alone,'" Lovullo said in a post-game interview, as documented by The Rich Eisen Show. "'No matter what happens, no matter what was said or what you’re heard, that guy is an idiot.’"
According to Arizona Republic, Lovullo heard the fan’s comment but didn’t want to repeat it. “I looked right at [Marte] when I heard,” he said. “I looked right at him, and he looked at the person, as well. He put his head down and I could tell it had an immediate impact on him, for sure."
Elsewhere in the post-game interview, the manager called the moment "terrible" and reflected on why he stood up for Marte. "Fans are nasty, and fans go too far sometimes," he said. "I love my players, and I’m gonna protect them…I’ve known Ketel for nine years. He’s had some unbelievably great moments and some hardships as well and some really tough moments in his life. I know those. At the end of the day, we’re human beings, and we have emotions. I saw him hurting, and I wanted to protect him."
- YouTubewww.youtube.com
The following day, the Chicago White Sox X account sent out a message in support of Marte, writing, "We’re with you" and "Baseball is family." On The Rich Eisen Show, the show's host addressed the need to eradicate this kind of toxic athlete-fan interaction: "I was hearing [people saying], 'There’s no place for this in major league baseball.' There isn’t. There’s no place for this in our society. I understand that people are saying the MLB has got to do something about this. Fans have a right to heckle players—this is something that has happened forever…But there is a line."
In another recent, depressing sports moment with a beautiful coda, let’s look to Game 7 of the NBA Finals between the Indiana Pacers and the eventual champions, the Oklahoma City Thunder. During the first quarter, Pacers point guard Tyrese Haliburton tore his right Achilles tendon—a devastating injury that could potentially sideline him for most of the 2025-2026 season. Following the game, in a lovely display of sportsmanship, Thunder point-guard and league MVP Shai Gilgeous-Alexander went to the Pacers locker room to check on his competitor. In a press conference, he said, "You just hate to see it, in sports in general. But in this moment, my heart dropped for him. I can't imagine playing the biggest game of my life and something like that happening. It’s so unfortunate."
- YouTubewww.youtube.com