Not long ago, I was talking to my mother about blogging. She’d recently started a blog of her own — at age 70! — and was worried about comments… commenters… privacy… all the natural concerns someone might have who’d never ventured online.
I told her that through the comments, by reaching across to other bloggers, one can engage a network; find like-minded people; argue or share ideas; even make friends. I told her that the online community is what gives life to this strange medium.
That’s never been more real to me than tonight, as I try to come to terms with the loss of Ashley Morris.
I didn’t tell her how deep the connections can be… because I didn’t know.
It’s been probably a year since Ashley and I have interacted online… so why am I crying?
Because I am crying.
It’s more than knowing he left a wife and three young children, or that a truly passionate human being is gone. In this strange new blogging medium, we’ve created something new — something hitherto undefined.
Day in and day out, we share ideas and thoughts that stem from the depths of our souls and minds. These aren’t ordinary conversations; they’re carefully intellectual, frequently emotional… and even though one might never discuss personal details or family, blogs are — at their very core — deeply personal.
And beyond all of that, sometimes the circumstances that create a blogging community are emotional in and of themselves — as in this case. Because Ashley was an integral part of the NOLA bloggers, and the bonds created in the post-Katrina crucible are very, very strong.
So it is that I find myself mourning someone I never met, but knew well.
Farewell, Ashley.