A Bright Light Gone...

Yeah, I know, but look, back in the day when this blogging stuff was called Daynotes by some of us, I did do a bit of a tour not just around the Daynoters, but around the wider world of bloggers as well.  Some for entertainment, some to see what was up, and some because they were just darned good writers, just damned funny.  While excusing myself regularly for using that term (much like a current TV ad for a product called "rebelsus" - sounds like a body function someone ought to do in private, wash their hands afterwards, or apologize if it happens in a small interior space), I did find some people who were all of the above, plus spectacular writers.

Moby was one of them.  I remember reading his site and then his birthday came up - September 11th, 2001.  And the roof of his building was being showered with dust, ash, and debris from some unknown disaster which wasn't localized to New York.  

Earlier this week, as I pulled up my usual end-of-day visit to CNN, I found an article about Heather Armstrong, better known as Dooce.  She's gone.  By her own hand.  And I started tearing up, thinking about her kids.  And how lovingly she would write to Leeta, the oldest, in her regular monthly updates for her to read later.  

I don't know that my kids ever bothered googling themselves, or me.  As the internet is a fungible place (that means it changes a lot, kids), it's both disappointing and unsurprising that the old Daynotes site is gone.  It was one of the high points of my life, honestly, which might say something sad about me, but I thought to be recognized and accepted into a group of professional authors, many of whom I admired then, and still do today, even though a great number of them have not only stopped writing, but have passed on.  That includes Dr. Jerry Pournelle, the guy who started the whole Daynotes idea, Bo Leuf, who was a far more technical writer and developer than I ever was, Robert Bruce Thompson, another one of those folks who wasn't just a renaissance man, but a quirky genius who was also a gentleman who could honestly rip you several new ones if he thought you a fool.  Jonathan Sturm was another genius, one who I suspect was vastly underestimated, because in this day of technology, who in their right mind would use technology to improve their organic farming?  Only the smart, successful folks.  But Jon was a deep thinker - now no longer among us, I expect, as he's not responded to any of my emails, and he's stopped writing a while ago, after noting that he was terminally ill.  

It could be argued that in adding me, they started their trend downwards, but in that case, that would not do much positive service to the better people who followed me.  Look, some of you are probably grumbling about "low self esteem" or something like that.  I'm sorry, I was raised to let others praise me.  Standing on a pedestal and beating my chest to show how great I truly am isn't me.  As my parents both told me, better to let someone else praise your attributes than boast of your flaws. 

Back to Heather Armstrong - I found her back in the early "oughts" as they were once known (about a century ago).  She was beyond damned funny.  Which is usually how it turns out some folks are when they are in incredible pain.  And the pain I'm feeling right now isn't going to make me suicidal, it causes a deep agony for her daughter.  I was following along in the very early days of her motherhood.  Yeah, I was there before she became a "mommyblogger".  She was funny.  And as I continued to read her work, saw how deep a thinker she was, how hard she worked to make something happen, and, let's be honest, when you're truly talented like that, good things can happen.

Unfortunately, when you're that talented, you also have a few things that you get to deal with, it seems.  I don't know why it seems the truly talented have their demons, but I expect those folks whom we see near the top of their particular fields of skill are there due to the talent, there are many other people out there who are dealing with the same demons, and are just like you and me - plain old normal folks.  Nothing wrong with that, but as I've learned over the years, early to bed, early to rise, regular days with no major challenges or struggles, tend not to make the most interesting reading, viewing, or art.  It's in the challenges some folks find ways to rise above. I sure had hopes that Heather would.

Now she's gone.  And it hurts.  So look, my friends.  We're in this together.  If you're in some pain, please, do everything you can to reach out.  To someone.  Someone who knows you.  Someone who loves you.  Someone who would miss you.  I ask because both of my children have lost people whom they knew through various activities, mostly school-related, and they're still bothered by it.  My daughter lost a friend of hers, another friend happened to look out the back window of his house, and saw their mutual friend hanging from the family deck.  Dead.  

There's the friend of my son's who was part of his Robotics team, a bright young guy, lots and lots and lots going for him, he'd just returned from the annual family camping trip to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area, or BWCA, as we know it here.  And for some reason, he decided to take his own life.  My son will occasionally bring him up.  And he's still thinking about getting a couple of buddies together when they're doing better financially, doing some fundraising and other things, then starting a scholarship fund for one of the kids from the Robotics team at their former high school.  They'd encourage current team members to apply, and hopefully raise enough money to insure that they could make a solid, meaningful gift in memory of their friend.

So yes, some folks, in leaving, motivate others to do good.  But please, folks, consider this - there's a bunch of people who would miss you if you weren't here any longer.  And that sucks.  There's a lot of good and bad in this great wide world.  Every day we can find beauty and horrors.  Of late, it sure seems there's an awful lot of us feeding the bad wolf, not the good one.  And while there's plenty of good in the world, we sure are drawn to the bad.  I hope that changes soon.  History keeps accumulating.  I'd like to think it would start looking better, rather than worse.