I posed the following questions the other day on Twitter and Facebook: Is it normal, or abnormal, to have exes as friends on Facebook or following on Twitter? How many exes do you have friending/following?
I wasn't sure if I would get any responses at all, but I got several. I appreciate people willing to share their thoughts on the issue. Here's what I got:
3 people responded on Twitter; 8 commented directly on the Facebook post and 1 sent me a message on Facebook.
Women commented more than men. 3 men replied, compared to 9 women.
Two of the people didn't divulge what they thought was normal behavior. Those comment questioned what the definition of normal was and whether I was normal.
And that's really what I was trying to figure out: Am I normal? There are women among my Facebook friends and Twitter followers than I have had relationships with in the past. Based on the replies I got, that's not uncommon. Six of the the 12 people who replied indicated that still had contact with people who they dated or had relationships with. Two other did not say if they had former lovers among their friends, but they indicated it was "normal" to do so.
Five people included numbers in their replies, which ranged from 1 to 12.
Two women who are both married indicated that their husband is aware of the relationship(s) they had with the person or people who are also Facebook friends.
Two people had pretty strong feelings about the issue and do not maintain contact with people they have dated. I respect those views and I even understand them a little better now than I might have earlier in my life.
One of my exes had similar views when we were together. She kept no photos of people she had dated and had seemingly tossed out all mementos of any kind. The fact that I still had some contact with some people from my past caused stress on our relationship. So, I cut off a lot of ties to my past during that relationship, not just to people I had dated but also to friends and family members. In the end, the relationship died (or was killed) by something else. I found I needed the people in my past to help me move forward and have tried to rebuild ties over the years with one notable exception -- the woman who had been so jealous of my past. It would be difficult to find any signs of her, or our time together, in my life now. I know she is on Facebook, but have made no effort to reach out. She taught me how to do that.
I don't know if I'm normal or not, but I most identify with this comment I received via Twitter: "I think it's a shame not to be friends with people you once loved. I understand it's not always possible."
In there interest of full disclosure, there are people on my friends list on Facebook and/or who follow me or I follow on Twitter who I have dated in the past.
Thanks to all who responded to the question. And thanks to women who have been such an important part of my past who are still part of my life, though in a platonic and far more limited way.
But the biggest thanks should be reserved for the understanding and trusting spouses, lovers and partners who are willing to allow people to maintain some form of contact with the people who have been important in a lifetime. Not everyone can, or wants to do that.
I hope whatever is normal for you and the important people in your life helps you find fulfillment and happiness in your life and relationships.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Bring back show and tell?
I will, no doubt, draw scorn for this, but I just can't get the thought out of my head.
I've been seeing all these women on Facebook posting colors today, to signify their bra color in an effort to increase breast cancer awareness. There can't be enough awareness of the issue as far as I'm concerned. I hope my daughter and the women in her family never have to face that threat. I lost an aunt to breast cancer and have a friend who had quite an ordeal fighting that disease just a year or so ago.
But, try as I might to squelch it in certain company, I'm still a guy. And I had a thought.
Wouldn't the whole Facebook color status post thing be a lot more interesting if the women posting their colors also posted a picture as proof? There could be some real creativity demonstrated in the self portraits that came out of that exercise. How much to show. How much not to show. Maybe some abstracts. Fabric and lace. Maybe a hint of flesh. It could be pretty cool, don't you think?
On second thought I have too many relatives on Facebook now. I don't need, or want, to see their bras. That would just be creepy.
But all non-relatives, feel free to take part.
I've been seeing all these women on Facebook posting colors today, to signify their bra color in an effort to increase breast cancer awareness. There can't be enough awareness of the issue as far as I'm concerned. I hope my daughter and the women in her family never have to face that threat. I lost an aunt to breast cancer and have a friend who had quite an ordeal fighting that disease just a year or so ago.
But, try as I might to squelch it in certain company, I'm still a guy. And I had a thought.
Wouldn't the whole Facebook color status post thing be a lot more interesting if the women posting their colors also posted a picture as proof? There could be some real creativity demonstrated in the self portraits that came out of that exercise. How much to show. How much not to show. Maybe some abstracts. Fabric and lace. Maybe a hint of flesh. It could be pretty cool, don't you think?
On second thought I have too many relatives on Facebook now. I don't need, or want, to see their bras. That would just be creepy.
But all non-relatives, feel free to take part.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The man with the long beard makes an unlikely Santa Claus
I haven't written a post here in about two and a half months and that post was about a trip my dad and I made to Nebraska for his brother's funeral, and in the time since that post was made two of the people we saw on that trip have also died.
The latest call came today. My dad called me while I was at work. He never does that. My parents rarely call, but when they do it's almost always bad news.
When I got the call in early November about my Dad's brother in-law Doug dying, that was not too much of a shock. He was not in good shape when we saw him in September. He was 86 and in failing health. It was sad, but not a stunning development.
One of the reasons I felt it was important to make that trip was to see and spend some time with family because I knew some members of the family might not be there the next time I was able to get back there. My dad is the youngest of his siblings and my parents are now both in their early 70s. I think I've only been back to Nebraska four times in the last 27 years. All four of those trips were for funerals. There have been funerals I've missed too, like my grandmother's. I'm not a big fan of funerals. I'd skip my own if I could, but missing Grandma's was hard, even though I had said a tearful goodbye to her when she left Oregon for Nebraska not long before her passing. I didn't go back for my Uncle Doug's funeral either, but was glad I got to sit and talk with him and hear him my dad share stories just a few weeks before he died.
The call today threw me for a bit of loop though in a very different way. Dad was calling to tell me that my cousin, Mike, had died. I have a lot of cousins that are quite a bit older than me, but Mike is not one of them. He's actually younger. It's also upsetting because a member of my family is gone and I didn't really know him that well, and now I never will. Sadly, there are far too many members of my family that I don't know very well. Too may years and too many miles separate our time spent together.
The amazing thing I experienced on the last couple of trips to see family is that the years and the miles didn't seem to matter. The family bonds are still there.
My cousin Mike served as host on the last trip my dad and I made to Nebraska together. Mike gave up his bed during our stay and he made sure we felt at home. He also helped us catch up on the happenings within the family and took us out on the town one evening.
I was quite impressed with Mike. His mother has been quite ill, recovering from a stroke, and Mike has been taking care of her. He had become her full-time caregiver. I remember asking myself: "Could I do that?"
I didn't know the answer, if push really came to shove. The best I could come up with was maybe. And then again, maybe not.
Mike had also cultivated a distinctive look for himself with an amazingly long beard. He looked like he was auditioning for a spot in the ZZ Top lineup. I kept expecting him to flip it over his shoulder, or swoosh the hairs back and forth in dramatic fashion like Pai Mei in Kill Bill Vol. 2. How did he manage to ignore that thing dangling from his chin?
I know Mike had a keen interest in music and played guitar, but I never heard him play. There is much I don't know about him. Over the years I've been much closer to some of his siblings. His sister Tammy was my babysitter when I was young. Mike's brother Bill was a little older than me, but I always looked up to him, almost like a big brother. I always wanted to hang out with Billy. I wanted to be like Billy. He just seemed so cool to me. Mike's brother Randy was older still, and I didn't know him as well when I was young, but we have got to know either other quite well in more recent years. Randy moved in with me for a while when I was living and working in Hermiston about 20 years ago. He is funny and can always make me laugh. Because he was older, and had maintained his ties to Nebraska, even over years of working in Oregon, he knew more about the older generations of the family. He was my connection to the family. Their oldest brothers, Steve and Keith, were already out of the house by the time of my earliest memories. They were more like uncles than cousins.
When we were children, I didn't spend much time with Mike. He was the same age as my brother Ron and I felt too old, too mature to hang out with the younger kids. Ironically, I did every thing I could to hang out with Bill, who was about as many years older than me as I was older than Mike. Bill was much more magnanimous with his time than I was with mine.
I regret that now. The regrets are piling up with age. I used to arrogantly tell a former girlfriend that I had no regrets. It may have been true then, back in my college days, but then there wasn't much life lived to realize the mistakes that would haunt me. Now the haunting spirits of regret emerge with frightening regularity.
I got an e-mail from Mike a few days ago. It included a whole bunch of pictures of a guy who builds scale model airplanes out of metal. I thought about writing back just to see how things were going. But I was annoyed too because all the photos attached to the message were clogging up my e-mail program and it was taking forever to see the text of the message and the photos. In frustration I just tossed the message into the trash and never hit the reply button. Hindsight, being what it is, I certainly regret that now.
If I could go back a few days, I would write to Mike and say something, anything. And if I could go back to those college days I would not be so boastful about lack of regret with a certain young woman. Isn't that how it goes? Once so proud of a lack of regrets, now here I am facing regrets about things said and things left unsaid.
It's easy to forget that I come from a big family. I'm glad I got to go back to Nebraska in September to spend some time with Mike and Uncle Doug and so many other members of both sides of my family who I now so rarely see. We don't get all the time we want to do all the things we want with all the people we want. I'm thankful for the time I got and for the chance to learn how strong family ties can remain, in spite of time and distance.
Grieving can be a lonely experience, but it's mitigated when it's shared with others close to you. I'm so sorry for the loss Mike's death will mean to family and friends, particularly to his mother who has been able to live in her own home with Mike's help.
I really haven't been looking forward to Christmas this year for a very pathetic reason. Finances are tight and I am not going to be able to buy gifts for as many people as I would like to and won't be able to spend as much on the gifts that are given. I was even thinking about not going to see my parents and brothers to avoid any awkwardness over gifts or the lack thereof. Silly. And sad that it takes the loss of a cousin to remind me of what I should already know. Certainly there will be a some grieving over this holiday season, but I shall attempt to make this also a season for celebrating life and family -- those I will be fortunate enough to see for Christmas, those far away, and those gone but not forgotten.
Mike, Steve and Keith West at graveside services for Clyde West in September 2009 at the Mitchell, Neb., cemetery.
The latest call came today. My dad called me while I was at work. He never does that. My parents rarely call, but when they do it's almost always bad news.
When I got the call in early November about my Dad's brother in-law Doug dying, that was not too much of a shock. He was not in good shape when we saw him in September. He was 86 and in failing health. It was sad, but not a stunning development.
One of the reasons I felt it was important to make that trip was to see and spend some time with family because I knew some members of the family might not be there the next time I was able to get back there. My dad is the youngest of his siblings and my parents are now both in their early 70s. I think I've only been back to Nebraska four times in the last 27 years. All four of those trips were for funerals. There have been funerals I've missed too, like my grandmother's. I'm not a big fan of funerals. I'd skip my own if I could, but missing Grandma's was hard, even though I had said a tearful goodbye to her when she left Oregon for Nebraska not long before her passing. I didn't go back for my Uncle Doug's funeral either, but was glad I got to sit and talk with him and hear him my dad share stories just a few weeks before he died.
The call today threw me for a bit of loop though in a very different way. Dad was calling to tell me that my cousin, Mike, had died. I have a lot of cousins that are quite a bit older than me, but Mike is not one of them. He's actually younger. It's also upsetting because a member of my family is gone and I didn't really know him that well, and now I never will. Sadly, there are far too many members of my family that I don't know very well. Too may years and too many miles separate our time spent together.
The amazing thing I experienced on the last couple of trips to see family is that the years and the miles didn't seem to matter. The family bonds are still there.
My cousin Mike served as host on the last trip my dad and I made to Nebraska together. Mike gave up his bed during our stay and he made sure we felt at home. He also helped us catch up on the happenings within the family and took us out on the town one evening.
I was quite impressed with Mike. His mother has been quite ill, recovering from a stroke, and Mike has been taking care of her. He had become her full-time caregiver. I remember asking myself: "Could I do that?"
I didn't know the answer, if push really came to shove. The best I could come up with was maybe. And then again, maybe not.
Mike had also cultivated a distinctive look for himself with an amazingly long beard. He looked like he was auditioning for a spot in the ZZ Top lineup. I kept expecting him to flip it over his shoulder, or swoosh the hairs back and forth in dramatic fashion like Pai Mei in Kill Bill Vol. 2. How did he manage to ignore that thing dangling from his chin?
I know Mike had a keen interest in music and played guitar, but I never heard him play. There is much I don't know about him. Over the years I've been much closer to some of his siblings. His sister Tammy was my babysitter when I was young. Mike's brother Bill was a little older than me, but I always looked up to him, almost like a big brother. I always wanted to hang out with Billy. I wanted to be like Billy. He just seemed so cool to me. Mike's brother Randy was older still, and I didn't know him as well when I was young, but we have got to know either other quite well in more recent years. Randy moved in with me for a while when I was living and working in Hermiston about 20 years ago. He is funny and can always make me laugh. Because he was older, and had maintained his ties to Nebraska, even over years of working in Oregon, he knew more about the older generations of the family. He was my connection to the family. Their oldest brothers, Steve and Keith, were already out of the house by the time of my earliest memories. They were more like uncles than cousins.
When we were children, I didn't spend much time with Mike. He was the same age as my brother Ron and I felt too old, too mature to hang out with the younger kids. Ironically, I did every thing I could to hang out with Bill, who was about as many years older than me as I was older than Mike. Bill was much more magnanimous with his time than I was with mine.
I regret that now. The regrets are piling up with age. I used to arrogantly tell a former girlfriend that I had no regrets. It may have been true then, back in my college days, but then there wasn't much life lived to realize the mistakes that would haunt me. Now the haunting spirits of regret emerge with frightening regularity.
I got an e-mail from Mike a few days ago. It included a whole bunch of pictures of a guy who builds scale model airplanes out of metal. I thought about writing back just to see how things were going. But I was annoyed too because all the photos attached to the message were clogging up my e-mail program and it was taking forever to see the text of the message and the photos. In frustration I just tossed the message into the trash and never hit the reply button. Hindsight, being what it is, I certainly regret that now.
If I could go back a few days, I would write to Mike and say something, anything. And if I could go back to those college days I would not be so boastful about lack of regret with a certain young woman. Isn't that how it goes? Once so proud of a lack of regrets, now here I am facing regrets about things said and things left unsaid.
It's easy to forget that I come from a big family. I'm glad I got to go back to Nebraska in September to spend some time with Mike and Uncle Doug and so many other members of both sides of my family who I now so rarely see. We don't get all the time we want to do all the things we want with all the people we want. I'm thankful for the time I got and for the chance to learn how strong family ties can remain, in spite of time and distance.
Grieving can be a lonely experience, but it's mitigated when it's shared with others close to you. I'm so sorry for the loss Mike's death will mean to family and friends, particularly to his mother who has been able to live in her own home with Mike's help.
I really haven't been looking forward to Christmas this year for a very pathetic reason. Finances are tight and I am not going to be able to buy gifts for as many people as I would like to and won't be able to spend as much on the gifts that are given. I was even thinking about not going to see my parents and brothers to avoid any awkwardness over gifts or the lack thereof. Silly. And sad that it takes the loss of a cousin to remind me of what I should already know. Certainly there will be a some grieving over this holiday season, but I shall attempt to make this also a season for celebrating life and family -- those I will be fortunate enough to see for Christmas, those far away, and those gone but not forgotten.
Mike, Steve and Keith West at graveside services for Clyde West in September 2009 at the Mitchell, Neb., cemetery.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Heading back up the Oregon Trail
My dad and I headed back to Nebraska for his oldest brother's funeral last week. It was good to see family, but I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Happy birthday, baby brother
Tuesday, Aug. 25, is my brother Dean's birthday.
The year Dean was born was an eventful one for our little branch of the West Family Tree. As my mom was getting ready for labor, my dad was buying a business in the thriving metropolis of Echo, Ore.
About a month after Dean was born, my dad piled all of our belongings into a moving truck in Western Nebraska and then he piled my mom, brother Ron, me and newborn Dean into a small plane and flew us to our new home in Oregon. We landed literally right outside our new backdoor. Our new home, on a small private airstrip out in the country, was also the home base for my dad's new business.
I doubt my brother remembers the trip. I was about a month shy of my 8th birthday. I can't say I remember a lot of it myself either.
It's hard to believe all of that was 36 years ago.
I was trying to figure out what to do for my brother for his birthday. My first thought was to shave part of his head, so he was a hairstyle more like the ones sported by my dad, brother Ron and I. But since I won't actually see my brother on his birthday, I opted instead to embarrass him long distance with a few photos from his recent past.
Happy Birthday Dean!
The year Dean was born was an eventful one for our little branch of the West Family Tree. As my mom was getting ready for labor, my dad was buying a business in the thriving metropolis of Echo, Ore.
About a month after Dean was born, my dad piled all of our belongings into a moving truck in Western Nebraska and then he piled my mom, brother Ron, me and newborn Dean into a small plane and flew us to our new home in Oregon. We landed literally right outside our new backdoor. Our new home, on a small private airstrip out in the country, was also the home base for my dad's new business.
I doubt my brother remembers the trip. I was about a month shy of my 8th birthday. I can't say I remember a lot of it myself either.
It's hard to believe all of that was 36 years ago.
I was trying to figure out what to do for my brother for his birthday. My first thought was to shave part of his head, so he was a hairstyle more like the ones sported by my dad, brother Ron and I. But since I won't actually see my brother on his birthday, I opted instead to embarrass him long distance with a few photos from his recent past.
Happy Birthday Dean!
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