She found ita on the couch, with her laptop open. She had been reading her email when she passed.
And I don't care if it makes me a blind-spotted silver-line-er, but I can't help but think - no, not think, feel - that it somehow made her a little bit, a tiny bit, less alone, having the internet with her - not the technical parts of it, the computer parts, in which she was so good, but the people part, the way she connected through these technical and computer tools, with the hearts and souls of people.
No, Nilly, I thought the same thing.
It's true, Nilly. Because of y'all, I'm never feel alone as long as the computer is on and the interwebs are working.
I've cried a thousand times more than I did when my mother died two years ago, because: mom, a few weeks shy of 96 years old. This is so untimely.
Checking in here now...
I'm stunned. I never met ita in person, but she was so much a part of this board that it's going to be weird here without her.
{{{{{Buffistas}}}}}
I, too, have taken some small comfort in the thought that she was reading on-line and just slipped away from meatspace (a term she taught me).
So I think it's not entirely my looking-for-any-sort-of-comfort in choosing to see this specific not-alone meaning in this line.
I take great comfort in that.
I had people ask me if they should come over, so I wouldn't be alone. I told them that I was going online. It's where all of our mutual friends are, so I wouldn't be mourning alone. We'd be together.
Every time I want to righteously kick someone's butt, I'm sure she'll be there, like Tom Joad, but sexy.(And I bet she'd want me to rewrite that sentence.)
I'll join the chorus of people comforted by her being online.
