Notes from a dimly lit office.
Deade Jayne: A Facebook Requiem
There were tales from her birthday party, a Fourth of July gala and a trip to the lake. She wrote about a handful of relatives fighting over her possessions. And she described how she felt about her future. By the end of the month, more than 115 Facebook friends were following the posts penned by her former neighbor on her behalf — Facebook friends who quickly grew fond of the woman whose Facebook page appeared after her death, when Jane became Deade Jayne.
She had been an accountant, a Republican, an evangelical Christian, a fervent gardener who installed lights so she could work in the flowers after sunset. It was a 6,000-square-foot house, a dilapidated maze of rooms, sagging ceilings and worn, stained furniture. She’d moved there in the ‘30s, and through the years, relatives had taken rooms with her. Some moved on. Others relied on her care for their last days. Their belongings were stacked in the damp, buggy basement. She grew old, watching friends pass away, speaking with her far-away brother and sister occasionally, relying on her neighbor for trips to the doctor, pharmacy and grocery store. And she resisted suggestions to move into assisted living, in the end even declining the surgery that might have prolonged her life. She died on her own terms, aged 91, in June.
It was a small obituary. A nephew came to cull a few family heirlooms, but no one in her family wanted her cremains. That’s how the neighbor came to have them: He was charged with scattering them around the house after the estate sale. And so for the month of July, while Deade Jayne awaited her scattering, her Facebook friends slipped past the grim idea of relating to an urn and grew to honor and love a woman who was undeservedly slipping away too quickly and quietly.
Deade Jayne wrote to them: Oh, darlings. I have had such a fun time tonight on this new-fangled internet, and my fingers are so tired they’ve turned ashen. I love you all!
One commented: What are your weekend plans, Jayne? The weather should be lovely.
Another: Jayne, honey, you are lamenting the good old days, aren’t you? Just a while until life feels like a breeze again.
At the end she wrote: My last night before scattering. I will be watching tomorrow, with a smile, a giggle and maybe a tear, for you will be honoring my earthly pathway. For this, know that you are loved and will forever be a part of me for being my friend.
On August 2, nearly 2 dozen friends gathered to place Jane’s cremains in her rose beds and vegetable gardens and beneath the towering pin oak she planted 40 years ago. They said farewell to Deade Jayne, and there were tears.
Postlude.
Deade Jayne’s 115 Facebook friends, some of whom lived half a country away, bonded and shared her journey to her final rest. It’s in our nature to look for ways to connect. We text, email, comment, tweet and post because online connections bridge time, space and generations to create community.





