Absences

I read a great piece of advice about blogging awhile back. It said something like, "In order for your blog to survive, you have to feed it regularly."

I hope it isn't too late, that I haven't starved my blog to death by not feeding it in more than a month.

I just haven't had any time at all to devote to it lately. My life in real time, real space has occupied all of my time lately. But there's always the nagging regret that there aren't more hours in the day, because I really DO love to write my thoughts down in here every once in awhile, share them with the solitary reader who happens to stumble upon my blog every now and then, just get 'em down and off my chest.

But just weeks after I started this blog in September, I got a call from a company I'd recently sent an application to, went on my first job interview in nearly 20 years, and surprise!...got the job. So the little time I used to be able to spend posting to my blog is now spent mainly on...reading posts submitted by others to online obituary guestbooks, and then deciding if they're appropriate to publish or not. (Bet you never would've guessed that that's how I was going to end that sentence. I guess you could call it the quintessential odd job!)

You know how when you read an obituary in the newspaper, at the end it often says, "Sign the online guestbook." Well, that's where my company comes in. They host these online guestbooks for almost all the major U.S. papers, plus hundreds of other smaller newspapers throughout the country. And they've branched out into Canada and the U.K. in recent years too. So with thousands of these entries coming in every day, they've got plenty of work to keep a large staff of "screeners" busy on shifts that cover most of the day and night. And as of early last October, I'm one of those screeners.

You'd think it might be a bit of a downer, being involved in an industry that owes its very existence to the fact that people die, by the thousands, every single day, reading posts saturated in death for hours at a time, five days a week. Well yeah, there ARE times when it can get to be a little much, when it's hard to detach yourself, when all this talk of death and the deceased can get you down and make you feel sad. It makes me all-too-keenly aware of the transient nature of life, that's for sure, of how quickly it all can end. It makes me acutely aware that there are heartbreakingly sad deaths happening every day, that many of the good really DO die young, that life--even for those who live to be 100--is just waay too short.

But in many ways that's been a good thing. Even before this job, being well into my 40s now, I long ago lost that sense of immortality, that life would go on forever. I've long been aware of the urgent importance of making the most of each day, of truly savoring every moment with those we love. But this job gives me such clear, concrete examples of those precepts every day. So with every post I read, I'm reminded to deeply appreciate every moment, every smile exchanged, every tenderness shared with those I love. To not sweat the small stuff too much. Every day I get vivid, well-written and extremely poignant reminders of how it can all be over in the blink of an eye.

And reading all these entries, there are a few "themes" that emerge over and over again:

1) The block you grow up on becomes your first little "community," which is why so many writers seem to have such vivid memories of the years they spent growing up on a particular street, the special neighbors they had, all the carefree, happy times they spent playing with the other kids on the block, etc.

2) Many people seem to have a lake somewhere in their past. So often I come across entries that recall magical, golden summers spent "at the lake."

3) No one seems to be remembered for their fancy house, how much money they did or didn't have, or the material things they gave to others. From reading these posts, it's usually hard to tell if the deceased was rich, middle class or poor. People talk almost exclusively about the special, priceless emotional qualities the person possessed, the things that can't be quantified. I honestly don't think I've ever read a post extolling all the wonderful "things" the person had, how rich they were, etc. Well, a really nice set of wheels has left a lasting impression on more than one poster, and the fact that someone was a sharp dresser sometimes gets noted. But usually the things that matter most to the writer about the person who is gone are the ones that have no price tag.

4) I guess this could be seen as another elaboration of point #3, but in the end it really does seem to boil down to "friends and family" being the most important things in most people's lives.

5) Some of the qualities people seem to admire most in others are the ability to put other people before themselves, to give of their time and talents to help others, to be truly interested in others' lives, yet be humble and modest and low key about their own accomplishments. So, self-centered is "out," other-centered is "in."

6) Whenever you sense that nagging feeling of guilt and regret about not being in touch with someone who means a lot to you for a long time, by all means pick up a pen or the phone, or drop them an e-mail, and let 'em know you're still out there and you still remember and still care. So many posters to these guestbooks express feelings of anguished regret for not doing so when they felt the urge or necessity, and then learning it was too late. Remember, there's a reason for those adages like "life is not a dress rehearsal" and "your life is now," other than the fact that they make for good T-shirt or bumper sticker slogans.

And finally 7) The word "privilege" has got to be one of the most misspelled words in the English language. :)

So that's my feeble and rather peculiar excuse for not posting more lately: I've been wallowing in death notices. But I think I'm adjusting a bit to this new schedule, getting accustomed to work taking up certain hours of my day on a very regular basis. I hope to be able to figure out a way to hold down a job, raise my family, keep my house (relatively) clean, make those phone calls, do those errands, and still find time for the occasional blog post.

And so my dear readers (if there are any of you out there), I hope you won't give up on my blog entirely.