This week’s blog challenge prompt is “Read something somewhere? What are your views on it?” I was mulling that over and trying to decide what I have read lately that is blog-worthy, but for the past few weeks my reading has been for pleasure, and my reading pleasure is true crime because I am weird like that. I don’t think my readers are fans of body farms that study decomposition, so that wasn’t going to work. Then an incident happened early in the week that really chapped my ass. I sat with it for days, trying to decide if I want to get on my soapbox or not. It is now Sunday morning and yep, it’s still grinding my gears. So here I go, climbing up on that box.

There’s just no getting around it–losing someone hurts. But do you know what makes the experience even worse? Gatekeepers. I don’t know what makes people think they have a God-given right to give people permission to grieve the loss of someone or yank that permission away, but they exist.

Maybe it is because my parents taught me that the extent of my ability to control others ends with myself. I don’t have to like what others choose to do, but when it comes to making sure something does or does not get said or done, I can only 100% control me and everyone else has to govern themselves and we can only hope they make good decisions. I can offer suggestions. I can lay out the pros and cons of an action. But in the end, everyone is autonomous, not puppets on strings that I can make dance to my whims. If something they do or say goes belly up, that is ultimately on them.

And yet there exists in this world people who feel that they alone can control how others express their feeling when a loved one passes away. They insist that they alone “yay” or “nay” what others post on social media. I can (begrudgingly) agree that family members get first crack at it before friends and complete strangers start wailing on their walls, but when family members shut down other family members and make them remove posts, I see red.

Are there different layers to family? Sure. The inner circle of parents, children, and siblings is tighter than the extended family of aunts, uncles, and cousins. But there are some families where cousins were raised as siblings, or close friends were considered family. They are going to feel the loss just as sharply as the ones who share DNA.

Grief is a community event. In most societies, people gather to grieve–they don’t hole up by themselves and kick everyone else out. And social media is now where many “gather”. The town crier’s “Hear ye Hear ye” has been replaced by posting for the masses.

Is there a protocol to follow? Probably. Wait until the immediate family has shared the loss before resharing their post and commenting. However, if the immediate family is not social media savvy or is too buried in their grief to post, the next logical step is to wait until the official obituary has posted to the funeral home’s website and become public information. If someone is hurting immensely from the loss and doesn’t want to step on toes or wait for the official announcement, it is perfectly acceptable to post that they are hurting from the loss of a loved one without naming names. No one has been identified and no one has had their toes stepped on, but that person is allowed to start gathering his or her community around them to help them grieve. The community doesn’t have to have a name or all of the gory details–all they need to know is that one of theirs is hurting and needs a virtual shoulder to cry on. This is a perfectly normal response to the loss of a loved one, and the last thing that hurting person needs is to be screamed at by the gatekeeper for daring to post.

Newsflash–you’re not the only one hurting, so chill the hell out and let people cope with the devastation in their own way. It is not taking one bit of attention away from the family if someone else posts a crying emoji or lets the world know that they are missing a shining light in their world. No one lives in such a bubble that their loved one only made an impact on 2 or 3 people. That person had friends, coworkers, pool hall buddies, people who saw them every day on their commute, and cashiers at the local gas station who knew their habits better than some family members.

Show people some grace–it will ease the pain. Trust me. But that’s just a suggestion.