Introduction to Grief Tech
When Matt, Peter Listro’s son, grasped that his father’s death was imminent, the shock was so strong that it was physical: He felt in his chest the finality of what was to come. Matt, 39, hoped to marry one day. He had always pictured his father beaming at his wedding, and he had loved imagining the kind of grandfather he would be — wry, but sage and sympathetic. Matt, eager to ease his sense of loss, persuaded Peter to work with a company called StoryFile to help preserve his memory.
The Grief Tech Process
The family was taking advantage of one offering in a growing field known as Grief Tech, which ranges from chatbots trained on the communications of a person who has died to a program that uses virtual reality to create a 3-D avatar of a deceased loved one — a remarkably lifelike presence. The Listros decided on something in between: StoryFile would create an avatar of Peter that could converse through a video screen, as if his family were reaching him by Zoom.
Creating the Avatar
The day of the shoot, Peter sat in an armchair in his living room, one hand crossed over the other. His legs were crossed, too, so that his black-and-white polka-dot socks were well exposed. Slight of frame, Peter looked elegant, although to his wife of 30 years, Joan, and to Matt, he appeared almost gaunt: He’d spent 72 days straight in the hospital and lost 18 pounds since he started receiving treatment for his cancer in February.
Peter’s Motivation
Peter had not agreed to participate in this project because he suddenly felt the call of posterity. He was doing it for Matt and Joan. Maybe it would provide them some comfort after he was gone. First, the producer asked Peter to repeat some stock phrases. “Say, ‘Hello,’” she directed Peter. “Say, ‘Hi.’” Peter did as he was told; somehow he sounded as if the word “hi” had never come out of his mouth before, as if he were already imagining himself as some kind of futuristic robot.
The Interview Process
One after another, the producer asked Peter questions from a list Matt had provided: What is your favorite childhood memory? What would you tell your son on the day you meet his husband? What would you say to Matt the day his first child is born? Could you talk about the time that Matt, as a kid, asked why you loved him? Peter wept as he recalled the moment. “He is the best son,” he said. He took a few minutes, wiped his eyes with a tissue, breathed.
Peter’s Reflections
Peter spoke about growing up in modest circumstances in Queens, explaining how he built and sold a thriving business that sold baby monitors and other products for parents. Although he was proud of the comfortable life he had provided for his family, some of the memories Peter recalled were clearly painful. He had a sister with severe cognitive disabilities who was institutionalized; as a child, Peter agonized over his sister’s isolation, wishing he could do more to help her. “I tried,” he said, bowing his head.
The Experience of Interacting with the Avatar
About a week later, Matt sat down in his apartment in Brooklyn and clicked on a link that StoryFile provided, with some preliminary interactive material. There was his father: legs crossed, black-and-white polka-dot socks, the belt that Joan fiddled with on the day of the shoot. Peter became mobile in his seat, ever so slightly — his expression looked slightly apprehensive. If Matt pressed a “talk” button, his father nodded his head a bit as if to encourage Matt to go on.
Limitations and Emotions
Matt felt a tension between being moved by how real the experience felt yet also being reminded that it was a rendering. Peter was hoarse; he sometimes licked his lips, dehydrated. Matt wanted nothing more than to offer him a glass of water, a longing he knew he’d feel every time he watched. At times, when his father wept, Matt felt an even more powerful impulse to comfort him. “Seeing him cry on camera was really difficult,” Matt said. “It was a reminder that this is a human I love that I want to console. But you can’t console a video clip.”
Conclusion
Matt stared into the laptop. “Why do you often say, ‘Keep moving’?” he asked his father. “I feel it’s very, very important that people don’t get stuck,” Peter responded. “If you want to grow, if you want to get ahead, it’s important. And it’s something I always tell Matthew … and I would tell this to my grandchildren.” Matt closed the laptop, comforted for the moment by the knowledge that, the next day, he would see his father in real life.