Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Saturday, July 02, 2011


A long time ago, Husband and I had a forum type website that was centered mostly on parenting that was populated mostly by women. It went balls up in the face of some pretty nasty fighting. We closed it down and moved on without much regret. Though I was glad to be done with it all (too much work, too much stess, no money) I did and do miss some of the truly amazing women that I met there.

Oh there were psychos and shrews, make no mistake. In a community with thousands of women, you find an amazing variety of crazy. There was even one instance in which we were contacted by the FBI, because one of our members had faked cancer and received thousands of dollars in donations which she spent on various hedonistic pursuits. She used our site to cultivate friendships and garner trust and then defraud hundreds of people. I know, right?

There were political activists, peacemongers, ecowarriors, militant parenting proponents of every classification, perverts, poets, writers and artists. And did they all co-exist peacefully and respectfully in our little corner of cyberspace?

Hell no.

But in the midst of the back stabbing and rumor mongering and bitch fighting, there was some really awesome communication taking place, and true, deep, lasting friendships being formed. Even the superficial chit chat was gratifying because sometimes it just feels good to connect with other people on any level, especially for those of us who felt isolated and alone.

So although, as I said, I was not sad to put that behind me, I do miss some of the people.

Some of them I became real life friends with and remain in close contact with to this day. But there were over 1,000 women on that site and I lost touch with most of them. Sometimes I hear of one or another through mutual acquaintances, blog posts,  Facebook, etc.

Recently I was saddened to hear that one of those women passed away after a long, arduous bout with cancer. She's not the first person from that community who has died. One committed suicide. Another died of cancer. One was murdered by her husband. Those are just the ones that I know about.

I wasn't particularly close to her, but I do remember her, mostly because she had a peculiar screen name. And I don't like it when anybody I know in any capacity, dies. It freaks me out people. Badly. Because if they can die, I can die and you all know how I feel about dying.

But this woman....she faced her death with courage and grace and that truly awes me. I admire her so much for going into the unknown with faith that whatever lies beyond is better. She made a choice and her choice was to live as well as she could until her body could not sustain life anymore and then leave this world with a legacy of strength and wisdom and hope.

You have no idea how much I long for that kind of....CHRIST, what is that? What makes people able to surrender their fear and uncertainty and just believe that it will be okay. Whatever it is, I want it. But I don't know how to get it. Please don't say God. Please don't say Faith. Please don't say asking the Lord into my heart. There are plenty of people who face death every day without God. They die well. They die at peace.

That's what it is...peace. I don't know how to make peace with the whole idea of just not BEING any more.

It terrifies me. Truly.

I'm sad that she had to die. But I'm happy she was able to do it so heroically. Because it is heroic, in my opinion, to face death and not dissolve into a weeping, shrieking, hysterical mess, who begs for just one more day, hour, minute, second of life on this earth. I would. If ever you hear that I've committed suicide, don't you believe it. Somebody murdered me for sure. Because I would fight death tooth and nail and I would never, ever invite it. The very idea is absurd.

But I have to thank her. Reading about her last days and moments has brought me a kind of peace, knowing that people can die without fear. Maybe I'll get there one day. Heroes inspire us every day and I suppose then that she is my death hero. I aspire to be as fearless as she.

What do they bury heroes in? Whatever it is, I hope it's something that bears witness to her courage and grace.

A smile, perhaps.


  • At 4:55 PM, Blogger Margaret said…

    I won't be very heroic or brave at all. I'm not scared of dying, just don't like leaving the people I love so much here. It also freaks me out when people I don't even really know die. It seems so random somehow. Good people get sick and/or die. Not-so-great ones do everything wrong and survive. As the saying goes, life sure isn't fair!

  • At 6:15 PM, Blogger jess said…

    A friend of mine lost her son in a drowning accident the other day. He was five. I can't believe that death is the absence of being. I won't. There has to be something more than this life.

  • At 11:26 AM, Anonymous Barb said…

    "I don't know how to make peace with the whole idea of just not BEING any more."

    I think it would terrify me too if I believed it. But I can't imagine how it could be true. How can it be true that our souls, or whatever you want to call our conscious existence, will just cease to be?

    Trust your experiences after your mother's death.

    Interestingly, C.S. Lewis in his autobiography ("Surprised by Joy") has the opposite opinion. He struggled against conversion to theism because he DIDN'T want to believe in an immortal soul.

    Continuing to pray for you. . . .

  • At 7:32 AM, Blogger Avalon said…

    I used to feel very similarly to what you expressed. Take me out kicking and screaming. Until the night this past January when I really was within moments of death. And I was OK with dying. It still surprises me. I actually felt ready.

  • At 10:44 PM, Blogger Lisa said…

    A number of years ago, I took a course in how to support people living in palliative care. How to befriend and tend to the dying, basically. Spending that much time talking and thinking about death, brought everything in life to that much a sweeter, in living colour, kind of experience. I think sometimes people who are dying get that, too. And the way they live their last days blesses us all.

  • At 11:08 AM, Blogger Just Words On A Page said…

    I think we will always have fear of the unknown no matter how prepared we might think we are, or how spiritual we are. It's like when we are with someone who has a terminal illness. We know the day is coming. We watch them deteriorate. We watch them struggle. We in our heart of hearts don't want them to struggle anymore. But when the time comes that they indeed pass away it still hits us very hard because we are never ready for that because death regardless of what your spirituality is nor not is so very final.

    As much as I ascribe to the spiritual belief there is an after life I am not in a hurry to die regardless of how amazing the after life might be. I have way too many things to do here on Earth, a son to raise etc...and I hope I don't die until I am really old and moldy.

    I love watching your journey through all of this, your growth is just mind blowing.


  • At 1:32 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Growth? Gah. I don't know. I still feel like I'm sitting in the corner with my blankie sucking my thumb. But thanks. And thanks for the validation too. :?)

  • At 10:49 PM, Anonymous Dyann said…

    As you were searching for the word to describe what you need to come to terms with your own mortality, I already had it in mind. You called it peace. And then you came around to courage and grace. For me, GRACE encompasses peace and courage. I learned that as I watched my mom who had 52 days to prepare for her own death. An absolutely terrifying position to be in. But she did it with grace. She never stopped mothering and never exposed any fear she was feeling in those final days. Not because she was hiding it, but because she chose to LIVE those 52 days in a way she needed to live them. She things that were funny. Smiled fully. Hugged tightly. Thought practically and expressed clearly whatever it was she had to say. She taught me GRACE by demonstrating it in the most dire of circumstances. Admiration? That word doesn't even scratch the surface of what I feel for her, but it will have to do. I want to be like her when I grow up, and I'm 40. I, too, wish I could be comfortable with the uncertainty of the inevitable. But rather than dive into the topic (like you have), I put it out of my mind as much as possible. I figure I don't want to waste my limited time trying to figure out something that I have little (if any) influence over. Instead, I'm trying to live well while I'm alive. Connect to those who share and appreciate our human experience. And I'm so glad to have your example from which to draw inspiration!

    BTW, I admire you as well!!


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