Breeding and Writing: Mourning for a stranger

–by Tracy Lucas

I can’t think of a parenting slant to this, but here are the words I want to say today.

I just heard that Cami Park died.

I didn’t know her. We never crossed paths even once.

Apparently, she was a writer. She moved in these circles.  After a multi-layered Google search session, I realize I should have known her. She wrote some amazing stuff.

She was good.

There have been a plethora of condolence posts on Facebook, and many of the friends we appear to have had in common are really missing her today.

Word is getting around.

I’ve always wondered how that would work. If I were to die, for example, how would anyone know? So many of the people in my online life are impossible to connect back to the folks I know. My mother, my siblings, even my husband—none of them would know how to log in to any of the social sites I use, nor even be aware of places like Fictionaut and Goodreads and the handful of Ning networks I hang out on.

Maybe I’m childish. Maybe I’m naive. Fine.   I still choose to believe that these connections we’re making are real. Maybe not flesh-and-blood, come-to-my-house-to-visit real, but real nonetheless.

There have been times I was devastated over something, and a Twitter buddy was the one to pull me out of the funk or make me laugh. Blog feedback from total strangers has given me strength to keep going on some of the toughest days of my life. Facebook links have gotten me jobs, introduced me to people to admire, told me I wasn’t alone, and caused happiness.

Real happiness.

Maybe that’s stupid. I don’t know.

But I think we know each other, and I’m sad one of us is gone today.

I wish I could have known to know her.