5. A Mafiosa of Mourners

Who decides for a 30 year-old-single-man in the military what his life will be? Trick- question! The 30-year-old-man does. By Christmas of 2010, Colter and I were in a committed and loving relationship. I mean we weren’t in it so deep that we were sending out holiday cards together, but we were posting pictures together on Facebook.

That’s what you did. Post. Tag. Write on walls. Twenty percent of the population had a smart phone. You could Facebook from anywhere. I mean, if it wasn’t on Facebook did it even happen? I don’t know, but our relationship was definitely on Facebook...and so was another relationship.

On our second date I asked about Allison. I wasn’t sure how to refer to her. I called her “your wife.” Colter looked me in the eyes and asserted, “she’s not my wife.” I never called her that again.

Meanwhile a mafiosa of mourners had taken a stronghold over Allison’s digital legacy, thereby usurping Colter's in the process.

Colter’s assigned identity by his Navy peers was Allison’s husband. It wasn’t Colter building that reputation though. It was Allison’s friends tagging him posthumously in old pictures as they would feel feelings they might post pictures and in tagging Colter they would draw Colter’s online reputation into what they were feeling in that moment of wanting to reach out into the Facebook world, seeking to draw others into their feelings and their timeline.

Colter’s choices were to keep the tag or delete it. In the beginning it was what it was. It was Facebook. Despite it feeling awkward, Colter’s assigned reputation wasn’t personal.

I was clear how Colter felt about me and that was enough.

Allison died before the Navy and the DoD could foresee the pervasive nature of social media, afterall they were in middle of trying to win two wars.

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