I’m Sorry for Our Loss

One of the little-noted casualties of the Social Media revolution is our fluency in composing a simple and heartfelt message of condolence. The Victorians were brilliant at expressing sympathy, but they were steeped in so much tragedy that stationers couldn’t keep black-bordered notepaper on their shelves. In whatever ways we may have surpassed our great-grandparents, we’re nowhere near as good at death. We are thoughtless and trite, and never more so than when we’re trying to appear thoughtful. It doesn’t matter if one’s parent, spouse, dog-walker, or favorite wrestler passes away—or, as in the present instance, if one’s friend, mentor, inspiration, and boon companion via the radio dial and internet departs this vale of strife—the most we can be bothered to blurt out in our haste to move on to the next political argument or cat meme is, “I’m sorry for your loss.” This may be due to our inability to slow down and proffer genuine sentiment even as we wallow in prefabricated internet sentimentality. I fully expect to see it shortened to “ISFYL [frowny face emoji]” as a matter of time-saving convenience. Since Facebook is (among other things) the virtual express lane of a drive-through mortuary, I saw that phrase pop up often in co