My friend Siya slept in Christ 2 years ago today. He left suddenly and in much pain.
I haven’t been able to visit his grave or see his family since then.
I miss him.
Yet, I’m all blocked up now, as I try to write about him. He seems so far away. There are still digital footprints all over my life – a DM on Twitter, Google Meet, an e-mail, WhatsApp. I sometimes struggle with the question on whether I should delete or not. Does it mean that I no longer care? If they’re just 1s and 0s, why is it so hard to delete? Does deleting mean he’s gone fully, as if death is only final when it’s coupled with digital death? Charlie Kaufmann was onto something truly disturbing about modern life in the film The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind…
I miss him. He was a good egg.
The news of his passing came during a time of many deaths of friends. It was a wave of death, notwithstanding Covid. Some names and stories passed by, I unable to really deal with some because it was too much too soon. But Siya’s news broke me. I just spoken to him a few days earlier. I felt powerless and I was heartbroken. He was so young. I realized the power of a final phone call or goodbye, to help carry over the point of realization – this person is leaving now. And when you don’t have neither, death is so brutal. The idea of rituals – the services, seeing the casket, attending the burial – ease the pain of loss. Siya died during Covid, where funerals were digital and there were no tangible rituals. It was brutal, as much as death itself.
As I wrestle with the idea of removing digital traces, I look at the other side of the argument – that the actual person is gone. Maybe all digital traces aren’t memories, they’re just that. Breadcrumbs on a table or plate after a meal. The real memory – the laughs, the conversation, the teasing. That’s what you’ll remember. Not the crumbs. Sometimes, the crumbs get on my nerves and I delete them on the spot. Sometimes, I sit and stare at a message of pain or hurt. A funny thread.
There’s a hole in our mutual group of friends, sometimes I avoid those gatherings so that I don’t remember he’s gone.
I miss him. He was a good egg. He left too early.
Siya was a real person – greater than social media posts and not reducible to his pain or struggles. He loved his family and friends. He struggled with darkness. He was ambitious, driven, and a consummate dreamer. He was sporty and active. He was a Star Wars nerd and all-around tech geek. He was awake. He had a loud, roaring infectious laugh. I can hear it now in my mind…
He thrived on to-do and checklists. He had a thousand plans and ideas. He was human.
He left too early.
We were just getting started.
