Other than blogs of personal friends of mine, I follow two
blogs. The writer of my favorite blog passed away yesterday. It’s so strange to
grieve the loss of someone I didn’t actually know, but the thing is that it
always felt like I did. I have real friends (Ok--I should probably file them under "acquaintances.") whose children’s names I don’t know
or can’t remember. But hers? I know their names, their birthdays. I remember
her pregnancy announcements, her cute outfits, the house she and her husband
bought not long ago. Several times a week I checked for and devoured her posts
about life, fashion, the hogs, babies, whatever. The one thing in all this
sadness that has made me smile today is looking back at her blog. I kept
scrolling, page after page, thinking wow,
how wonderful for her baby girls to have this to look back on when they grow up
and can read so many of their momma’s own words about how much she loved them.
Please keep her family in your prayers. She’s 30 years old and has left behind a husband she adored, a not-quite-2 year old, and a 7 month old. Devastating.
I am allowing myself to feel the sadness, and I’m choosing
to draw inspiration from her life. I need to write more, both for myself and
for pure documentation/family keepsake. I didn’t write a 12-month post for
Owen. I had so many feelings that were too raw at the time, and by time I came
to terms with them, I felt like too much time had passed. I actually have part
of a post saved, so I might go back and post it soon. I regret that I didn’t.
I’m still upset that I only got to be with Owen for 10 minutes on his first
birthday, but I’m thankful for the enormous amounts of time I get with him on
most days. He and Ryan bring me joy after joy. I really don’t have much more to
say tonight, but I think it’s important to name and express our emotions in
whatever way we can, and be vulnerable enough to allow our experiences to
change us in both big and small ways.
Until next time,
Megan
