The Mourning After

I don't have many people I like to call friends. I am careful with the term. There are acquaintances and there are friends. In my life there is a very clear line between the two.

If you have known me for a while, you know how much I like to write. You also know that I greatly appreciate people who write back. There was a time when I was blogging pretty frequently on MySpace. Through my wife and her friends I met a woman named Ana.

Ana would comment on nearly every single one of my blogs. She asked questions and even requested more blogs when I would go on hiatus. She seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say which I have to admit, is like drugs for an amateur writer like myself. She really seemed to enjoy writing about and discussing dreams and their interpretation. I actually wrote a few blogs specifically at her request.

One thing I especially admired about her was her dedication to her daughter. Her page was plastered with photos of her and we literally watched her grow through the years.

After dealing with the obtrusive ads, constant crashing and altogether frustrating removal of features, I stopped posting my blogs there. I searched for an alternative and finally came here to BlogSpot/Blogger. I have since blogged about many topics that she would have normally had very interesting things to add to but I noticed she hadn't posted a single time.

Last night I decided to sign in to MySpace and look up a few of my old readers. I posted a message on her page telling her about The Silent Podium. I don't make it a habit of reading other people's personal messages on their profiles so I hadn't noticed people posting their goodbye's and messages of love and mourning. It wasn't until I received a personal message from one of her friends that I learned that she had passed away last February.

I never met Ana or her daughter in person, yet her surprising death affected me more so than some people I have known first hand. Perhaps it was her kind, intelligent personality, or her unadulterated love and devotion to her daughter. I don't know what happened. I don't know the details. I only know she is gone and she will be missed.

My condolences go out to her friends, family and most of all her daughter.

I regret that I never got to tell her how she inspired me nor that I considered her a friend. I regret that I never got to say goodbye. Thank you Ana, for being who you were.