The Writer

Recently, I came across a blog that I became fascinated with. The blogger’s name was Sue and her blog was called “The Writer”.

For me, she has the right to that "title", for her blog speaks for itself. I became a fan. I read her posts one by one, enjoying each and every words. I like her poetic style of writing and I admire how well she writes, simple yet so passionate. I know the work of a gifted writer because when I read it, it affects me.  I can feel the emotions and sincerity that oftentimes I get carried away. When I write I sometimes imitate their style unconsciously. However my own ineptness often shows. It reminds me to slow down a bit; I am not ready to write at that level yet.  

My nineteen year old son, who is my reluctant editor scolds me at times, “Mom, don’t use these words” he said. “But why not, I like to use beautiful words?” I asked. “You are not a poet, leave them to the real poets” was his reply. Ouch, even my own flesh and blood…

Anyway, back to Sue. I can’t get enough of her writings so I kept going back to her blog. I had it bookmarked. One day, as I was reading a few of her posts, I realized she was talking about a life that is soon to be over. In other words, I wonder if she was dying (I have a hard time writing the D word), and her blog was her way of expressing her feelings, a way to relax and to forget what’s imminent? One of her post called “The Droplet” the excerpt goes…

“It was there, clinging on to the edge of the leaf and was about to fall, fall into the little puddle of water below. Yes, the droplet was ready to give up and surrender its existence to the little puddle below. But something made it cling on, just that little bit longer.”

I am not sure if she is the original author of this or if she posted it because she only wanted to express her feelings at the moment. I saw two bloggers who posted this on their blogs as well and seemed to claim that they wrote it. They titled it “The Droplet and the Ripple”.

Here’s another excerpt from one of her post…

“I write because it allows me to cheat death at least for one more day, to proclaim in my own little, tiny, fleeting voice that everyone can be a beacon, can be a light in the planes of bleakness, and can Shepard their brothers through the valley of darkness.” 

After reading this post, I was stunned. I felt a little eeriness and maybe my gut feeling is true that I am reading a dead woman’s blog. Though you can’t find a hint of anger or self-pity in her words, she seemed bidding for an extension of time, a few more days of life. I noticed her last post was May 2009.

On her picture she looks like in mid-twenties. One of her posts was written expressing love for her man. I feel sad for both of them.  I feel sad for her blog “The Writer” for I would not see new posts that I admire and enjoy reading ever again.

I hope my intuition is wrong. I hope she’s just busy starting a great career and raising a young family and too busy to spend time blogging. I hope she’s well and fine!