The only individual who might chuckle at my corny jokes was TheMOM. This was partly because she enjoyed poking fun at herself; after all, she was the one who instilled in me this silly sense of humor.
I will never again have the pleasure of hearing her simple, genuine laughter. There are moments when I still long to hear the sound of her voice. She passed away on January 17 last year at the age of 76, a realization that took me by surprise. With the emergence of numerous “grief technology” apps, I could potentially input her data and retrieve old messages, videos, texts, and chats to create digital avatars of her, either for a nominal fee or even for free.
Although the idea is tempting now that the intensity of my grief has lessened, I am wary of the potential pitfalls. These sophisticated chatbots and virtual videos are becoming increasingly lifelike, raising concerns about how maintaining these digital replicas of my late mother or father, who passed away nine times earlier, might impede my grieving process. Will summoning their virtual presence help me stay connected, or will it drag me back to the painful months leading up to their departure?
The implications of this burgeoning industry on our relationships with deceased loved ones remain uncertain. Yet, recent advancements in understanding the neural mechanisms of grief and its various manifestations have sparked discussions about the potential impact of these lifelike applications on the grieving process. Counselors warn that the growing realism of such technologies could inadvertently exacerbate the challenges of coping with loss.
