When I began this blogging endeavor nearly two and a half years ago, I didn’t quite realize its implications. I started it for three reasons: 1) to force myself to write 2) to publish what I had written and 3) to find people who would read what I had published. That much I knew.
But what I didn’t expect were the friends I have made and the community I have found. In the time since this blog’s inception, I have met some of you. I’ve emailed some of you. I’ve given and received candy, chocolate and mix CDs. I’ve read about graduations, new jobs, crappy roommates, child births and cross-country moves—and at least three cross-Atlantic moves. I’ve started countless stories to real-life friends with “This girl whose blog I read…” or “One time, when TimsHead…” I’ve heard about break-ups and engagements; marriages and divorces. I’ve read it all—good news and bad.
And then yesterday, one of my favorite bloggers, someone from whom I’ve learned so much over the last two and a half years, got some really, really bad news. The kind that makes you refresh your browser in disbelief with the hope that a new page will load in its place, refuting the awful truth in front of you: that his parents were killed in a car crash on their way to meet his newborn daughter.
For those of us who’ve read his parental stories, and know how incredibly important his mother and father were to him and his family, it’s news that’s almost too difficult to read. His parents were more than just characters in a book—they were real lives who meant so much to so many people. The scope of this tragedy is too massive to fully comprehend, but one irrefutable fact has sunk in deeply: that what I absorb on these pages every day is truer and more real than most anything I have previously read in my life. And it’s happening in real time.
Hearing this news has shaken me, and I don’t even know the man. Sure, we’ve exchanged a couple of emails and blog comments, and I’ve been reading his stories for a few years. But I don’t know his real name or where he lives or anything about him except for what he shares on his site—that he grew up in New Hampshire, that he’s an editor at a very large, unnamed magazine, that he’s the father of three beautiful children and the husband of Her Lovely Self and that he has more blogworthy escapades than anyone I’ve ever met. If this news has shaken me, a total stranger, then I just can’t even begin to imagine how bloody awful he must be feeling right now.
So send him and his family your thoughts and love. Because I bet he sure could use them right now.
7 responses so far ↓
1 TimsHead // Apr 27, 2007 at 3:45 pm
That’s just so tremendously sad.
I think that people who don’t get blogs don’t understand the depth of the community. I call people I’ve never met and with whom I exchange comments friends. Why? Because that’s how I feel. They aren’t fictitious characters or remote beings. You read a blog, you comment and suddenly you feel like a part of someone’s life. We are all closer and, for the most part, better for it.
2 Boo // Apr 27, 2007 at 7:56 pm
I have not been doing this as long and still I have become attached to the people and their lives. My heart sank to read of this. But I am glad I did read of it.
Tim says it well about how people don’t understand when they are not in it.
It is this sense of community that makes people consider their words and thoughts more. We take the time to be supportive of each other in ways that real time does not permit. And in doing that, we do establish great connections and relationships.
I am glad he has you as a reader and a friend.
You’ve made me think. I feel like cherishing some people right now online and off. Thanks for the reminder, Laura.
3 lizzy // Apr 28, 2007 at 12:59 pm
I’m so sad to hear about your friend.
I think you’re right, though. The blog networks that form are sort of neat. We get to learn about each other. Sometimes something will happen and I’ll think ‘oh so and so would think _____’ and realize its someone whose blog I read. It’s an interesting way to be connected to other people. It’s sort of fun to think of having a friend in Oregon or Ohio or Oswego (I sense a theme).
The mass media tells us all the time how busy we all are. It’s interesting that as a product of our being ‘busy’ we’ve all developed a way to remain human to one another.
4 Johnny C. // Apr 29, 2007 at 10:02 am
Yeah dude, my girlfriend and I have been bummed all weekend. She doesn’t even read his blog.
5 Kathryn // Apr 30, 2007 at 9:29 am
I was trying to explain this to a non-blogging friend over the weekend and she just didn’t get it - it’s an amazing connection
6 corbow // Apr 30, 2007 at 10:20 am
This must be the week for senseless tragedies. I know I have found comfort in the support of bloggers who learned of our recent tragedy through my postings. My heart goes out to Masthead and his family.
7 Mandie // May 8, 2007 at 3:56 pm
I find myself in those same situations sometimes. Not nearly such tragic events as that one, though. I went straight to his blog as soon as I read that.
It is amazing how “pen pals” can be such great condolences, isn’t it? I won’t forget hwo supportive you were of me when I crossed the country to be with Chris. I’ve crossed back now, and that chapter of my life is closed. I should fill you in on the new chapter. The new chapter is J-U-I-C-Y (made from 100% juice, no additives).
Thanks for being a faithful blogger.