Rediscovering Facebook

Frankly, I thought the whole thing was a monumental waste of time. I refused to sign on more than two or three days a week and I scrolled through the dozens of postings at Superman speed. I enjoyed the links to interesting news articles that someone had flagged, and I loved the pictures. But I hated the inane messages. "Peter is at the gym."

Oh, shut up, Peter!

Today, I see things differently. I look at Facebook not with annoyance but with appreciation, even gratitude. I'm from a very large, close-knit family and last week tragedy struck with horrible suddenness and force. A cousin was murdered by what all evidence indicates was a jealous ex-boyfriend. It was vicious. She was 48, the divorced mother of two sons in their early 20s and a daughter who is only 10. The ex-boyfriend had left threatening messages on her cell phone since they had broken up a month and a half earlier. She had decided not to report him to the police because she didn't want him to lose his job. On an early Tuesday morning, as she opened her door to tend to her dogs before getting ready for work, the killer stabbed her 22 times.

In the midst of the indescribable shock and pain that followed, Facebook, it turned out, threw me a life line. My cousin and I were "friends", so I immediately turned to her page to read more closely the posts she had shared with her more than 200 other friends in recent months. Suddenly this seemed a way of connecting directly with her. She was an avid Facebook user, and her jovial personality shone through in the messages. So did her moods. I could safely guess when she was going through the break-up.

Her very last post, clocked at 11:50 PM on Monday night -- barely five and a half hours before she died -- broke my heart.

"Just feeling relaxxxxxx," she wrote.

Every post was precious. I examined every word, every picture, trying to catch up on her life now that it was too late to call her or send her a message or comment on her page. My beautiful cousin, so athletic and so young-looking. In her profile picture, she wore gigantic toy sunglasses surrounded by her daughter and nieces, who also wore the goofy glasses and struck rapper poses. I usually only saw her during holidays, or at weddings, funerals and family reunions, but this is what Facebook, this online "social network," allowed me to do when I needed human contact the most:

Read the outpouring of messages from her friends, co-workers -- and even ex-husband and one of her sons -- after they learned the terrible news, and realize how well she was loved.

Revisit the last year of her life, and partake of her last birthday celebration, a high school reunion, and her ups and downs.

Mourn with other relatives through messages, link them to the news stories about the crime, share our personal pictures of her -- at a time when phone calls and visits have not been enough.

Stare at pictures of the ex-boyfriend, now in jail awaiting arraignment, and compose mental messages to him. He, too, is on Facebook.

"Assassin."

"Coward."

"The kind who needs a knife to feel like a man."

It is taking all my strength not to hit send.