Friday, March 28, 2008

Blogging buddies

I log on each morning and peek into your lives with apprehension. Trying to conceive, pregnant, surrogacy, children, illness, family troubles...all the makings of a really good soap opera. I wonder if I read because I'm a bored voyeur.

And then I find myself in tears over Dave's post at Bon's blog...

Or disappointed in myself that I missed an important milestone in Kendra's World by a couple of days because I messed up my bloglines...

Or distressed over the blog exit of friends around the world...

and I realize that it's more than morbid curiosity.

And maybe I need help.

I've met only four of you in real life (that I currently remember...I hope I'm not forgetting someone...that would be embarrassing). So why is it that you are such an important part of my life?

I know why and I'm going to indulge in a little nostalgia here today...

I remember so clearly stumbling upon this post when I was in so much pain I could barely see straight. I felt so relieved to have found women who understood and didn't mind talking about "it." So many times I would read blogs of these women...grieving mothers just like me...and wipe tears away as I nodded in agreement with the words they had typed and put out there in the blogoverse.

Over the last two...almost three...years, I've come to feel like I KNOW some of you. I know where you live, what you like to eat, what your favorite hobbies are, what your dreams are. Of course, these are just bits and pieces and I don't really know you all that much. But whatever you choose to share, I am here to read and absorb. Fueled initially by my desire to not feel so freakish and alone in this craptastic universe, I now genuinely care about what happens to you.

So I guess that's what I'm trying to say...I care. And I'm sad when you choose to no longer share. I understand it...but it still makes me a little bit sad. Your words have kept me sane when I thought I was losing my mind. Your words have been a balm on a raw open wound. Your words have flowed in to fill in the gaps like water between jagged rocks and grains of sand. Your words are beautiful and are a great tribute to your strength and character.

So I hope that you will keep in touch. Drop me a line every now and then to let me know that you're doing ok. Look me up on Facebook. Whatever. Just don't disappear. Because you would be missed.

3 comments:

Aurelia said...

It is sad, isn't it?

I miss people who stop blogging and updating, and I haven't been around as long as you are. Well, regardless, I always intend on staying in touch with you.

I really need to find out how the story ends. And there is no end to real life!

Jillian said...

I feel like a right shit now - which is actually not as bad as it felt deleting those posts that came from my heart and soul. I totally get what you're saying in all respects because it was/is the same way for me.

The first glimmer of light I saw was when I read the words of one angry, screwed up mother and felt vindicated for my own reaction to my own loss.

Catherine, you have also been so important in my own healing - hell, your boys were flitting around in my head as they pulled Caitlin from me. She and Alex share a birthday. She and Travis crossed paths the week she was born.

My email remains the same, and I will start updating kid blog again. In just two days I have started mental blogging everything again and feel keenly the absence of a place to share it.

So thanks again x

Kendra's mom said...

Yes, it is strange how you can get so caught up in the lives of total strangers. You get to know them through their writing and I know I often sit here in tears or want to explode with happiness. I think it is the knowing that there are other people feeling the same things, often expressing it so much better. Even though I wish there were not so many moms out there who have lost babies, I am glad that they chose to express themselves through blogging. I started following your story in May 2006 and though I don't always comment I will always be reading.