perspective

This morning I popped into the journal page of that forum that has been weighing on my mind lately. There were a half-dozen new entries, all with titles reacting to something serious, but I didn't know what. I clicked over to check new posts and there was an announcement that the site's founder's husband had died quite unexpectedly this morning.

It's a story we've all heard any number of times: he was fine, and then he was gone. In this particular case it seems he may have a heart attack. He was one of the unfortunate ones mentioned in that statistic that some huge percentage of first-time heart attack sufferers die.

Thsi is one of the oddities of online life. I've never met this woman in person, and we have corresponded maybe half a dozen times. But she is someone that I've known for over a year now, and from reading her journals, posts, and articles, I really feel as if I know her, and I consider her a friend. Just last week the poor dear suffered the loss of her beloved teacup poodle, and I was left feeling inadequate, that I wished I could do more.

Today, that feeling is magnified a thousand times. She lives a thousand miles away and has never laid eyes on me, but that doesn't stop me from wishing I could just put my own life on hold and go and take care of her: cook and clean and shop for her, and drive her or her children wherever they need to go, so that she doesn't have to be concerned about day-to-day life details in the midst of dealing with the horror of their loss.

I know a little what she must be feeling, as I once had to deal with having my future torn away, everything I thought would happen thrown into the trash. It takes a long time to recover from a shock like this. I hope she has a good support system.

Now all my whining about my own problems seems even more petty. I wish that had been demonstrated in a less brutal way, though.