Saturday, July 4, 2009

And so it begins

After having utilised a MySpace page for many moons for my intermittent blogging escapades, I have finally taken the bull by the horns and started a real blog. Inspired by the honesty and beauty of others I have read, I must admit I am a little lost and worried about not making the grade.
But the tragedies and sadness from the last few days have once again shown me how frail life is, and how we must grab our dreams and run with them, for who knows what tomorrow brings.

My Mother once told me "you are too involved in others' lives. You need to take a step back and not care so deeply, for it only leads to pain." For a wonderful, nurtering woman she certainly came out with some doozies. But I am who I am. I do not know if my losses along the way shaped my nature, though by the age the first tragedy hit I would have thought my core traits were already in place.
I remember from a young age feeling wounded by friends, and sometimes even a sense of betrayal when the bitchiness of little girl packs hit. I recall taking it to heart, and running home crying to Mum. Maybe this is why she feels the way she does? I know it breaks my heart when my children falter and fall. But I cannot change this need to enmesh myself in friend's lives, to bond or link myself to them. How can I not when it is what I ask of others?

The loss of my only sibling in my mid-teenage years means I rely on my friends, and in return, would do almost anything to help if they call. I cannot remain a fringe-dweller, inanely making the right noises whilst not truly interacting or listening to their tales. I do freely give my emotions, allow myself to become involved, to try and help if I can, or just listen with an open mind, if that is what they need.

It is also why my heart breaks when bad things happen to good people. There are people you come across on this internet pathway who reach in and grab hold of you. Even if you have not met in the flesh, you can feel how wonderful, and refreshingly nice they are, even over the web. It is why their pain creates a deep sadness inside, though you could walk past them in the street and never recognise one another.

And now, after I have been reminded that life is too short by a tragic loss to one of these wonderful web friends, my blog takes its first, tentative steps into being.

RIP Xavier, for one so little you have left a very big footprint.

1 comment:

Melissa said...

First. I'm so thrilled that you are here, blogging. I look forward to getting to know you (and your family) even better. I just know I'm going to fall in love with your blog.

Second. I'm with you. I'm told constantly that I'm too involved, I worry to much about what happens to other people, strangers, friends, those in between. It is who I am, and I will not change that. These people are worthy of our love and care, even if our heart should bear their scars.

Finally, Lara's loss has rocked me also, and I'm simply shattered. I don't know her well, but I feel physical pain at her loss. Poor sweet Xavier, may he be at peace.