The Camaraderie of the Blogosphere
In the bereavement group I joined after the death of my wife, every member had a support system to get them through the battle — and indeed it is a battle.
They had children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters, other relatives, close friends, some were even in new relationships. In short, no one was completely alone.
I write this not out of self-pity or to solicit pity, but as a matter of fact and to make a point — I was the only one in the group who had no one. My two brothers are dead and my son is dead. That’s it. I have some extended family, but they weren’t there for me.
The bereavement group was a big help until Covid shut it down. After that, the only real support — or rather ethereal support — came from readers of my blog. I don’t have many, but the ones I have are tops in my book.
I won’t mention names, but they include a beautiful poet in New Zealand (absent lately), a sensitive guy in the Netherlands, the son of a paratrooper somewhere in America, a good ole country boy in Canada, a nurse in Texas, a caring young woman in the Pacific Northwest, a former colleague of my wife who tried to put me on the ‘Road to God,’ a brilliant and insightful Buddhism student from China, an honest soul who writes of ‘grief out loud,’ an author in Arizona, a dental student and poet perhaps in India, an artist and lover of chickens out there somewhere, a woman in Milan, a Spanish artist, a fellow widower in Alaska (what the hell happened to him?), and most of all, a gentleman master craftsman of the Blogosphere and a friend to many, who shares my posts and who is currently fighting his own battle. I have never met any of these people but I regard them as real friends of the ether. And what talent they share from around the world.
For the bereaved people out there who may read this, if you feel totally alone and ready to blow your brains out take time out and enter into the Blogosphere, a sort of Twilight Zone, and talk to the world. You will live another day.