UPDATE: Squirl talked to Nick and will be posting some information on his blogsite for him. He is doing alright, although things aren't going particularly well. Please keep him in your prayers!
I’m in a melancholy mood tonight. One of my favorite bloggers hasn’t posted on either of his blogs since Sunday. I’m worried about him. He had a case of the flu from hell and he posted every day to let us know how he was feeling. His mom was in the hospital and he posted religiously to let his faithful readers know her condition. I think if the Martians invaded the earth, he would manage to post from under his bed, telling us how to avoid their death rays. I can’t remember more than 2 days going by without a post from Nick. He’s that kind of faithful. And he’s not just a faithful blogger. He’s a man of faith. I have the utmost respect and admiration for him.
In the last several months, he’s had more than his share of trials and tribulations. His health isn’t good and he’s had other difficulties. Through it all, his posts have been inspirational and uplifting. He’s a wonderful human being, who would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.
Nick’s absence has led me to do some deep thinking. I know how hard that is for you to believe. I’m usually all about my cats or telling some silly story about dating my peripherals, but really, it has.
When I started blogging, it was to keep my family updated on my latest antics and show them the photos I’d taken. Then some of you commented and I realized that someone other than my family was reading the silly stuff I wrote, so I started reading your blogs. It was like being invited into your lives. Granted, it was just the part of your lives that you wanted me to see, but to a certain extent it was like being a guest in your home. Living in a rural area lends itself to a certain amount of isolation and loneliness and blogging helped to lessen that. I came to look forward to reading your blogs more and more. Now I spend at least a half an hour a night or more, visiting the friends in my new-found community.
So you see, I’ve found myself caring about people I’ve never met in real life. It’s been brought to my attention that I probably care more than I should, but I’m that kind of person. When I care, I open myself up, completely. In the past, it hasn’t always proven itself to be a good thing, but in this case, so far, it has.
So what happens when someone in the blog community disappears? I’ve known people who’ve given it up and closed down their blogs, but in my experience, they’ve made an announcement or proclamation of some sort before doing so. But I’ve never seen anyone vanish, especially not someone that I care about and feel that I know so well. I worry that he’s sick and can’t communicate that to those of us who care about him. I worry that his mom is failing, or worse. I worry. I do that well.
The friendship and companionship I have found within the blogging community has been a godsend to me. But this new development worries me, greatly. If I knew Nick in real life, I would know what was going on right now. I’d be with him through his time of trouble or driving him to see his mother in the hospital. I’d be taking care of Alex, the cat that owns him, while he took care of his obligations to his mother or to himself.
But here I sit, unable to do anything. I’m a “fixer” and I don’t know how to fix this.
Nick’s sudden departure from the blog world has shaken me up. I know his email address and his physical address and I’ve managed to track down his home phone number. I don’t want him to think I’m a stalker, so I haven’t called it, yet. Yet is the operative word. If I don’t hear something from him tomorrow, I’m going to call.
Does that make me crazy? I don’t know. It just seems like the right thing to do.
In the last several months, he’s had more than his share of trials and tribulations. His health isn’t good and he’s had other difficulties. Through it all, his posts have been inspirational and uplifting. He’s a wonderful human being, who would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.
Nick’s absence has led me to do some deep thinking. I know how hard that is for you to believe. I’m usually all about my cats or telling some silly story about dating my peripherals, but really, it has.
When I started blogging, it was to keep my family updated on my latest antics and show them the photos I’d taken. Then some of you commented and I realized that someone other than my family was reading the silly stuff I wrote, so I started reading your blogs. It was like being invited into your lives. Granted, it was just the part of your lives that you wanted me to see, but to a certain extent it was like being a guest in your home. Living in a rural area lends itself to a certain amount of isolation and loneliness and blogging helped to lessen that. I came to look forward to reading your blogs more and more. Now I spend at least a half an hour a night or more, visiting the friends in my new-found community.
So you see, I’ve found myself caring about people I’ve never met in real life. It’s been brought to my attention that I probably care more than I should, but I’m that kind of person. When I care, I open myself up, completely. In the past, it hasn’t always proven itself to be a good thing, but in this case, so far, it has.
So what happens when someone in the blog community disappears? I’ve known people who’ve given it up and closed down their blogs, but in my experience, they’ve made an announcement or proclamation of some sort before doing so. But I’ve never seen anyone vanish, especially not someone that I care about and feel that I know so well. I worry that he’s sick and can’t communicate that to those of us who care about him. I worry that his mom is failing, or worse. I worry. I do that well.
The friendship and companionship I have found within the blogging community has been a godsend to me. But this new development worries me, greatly. If I knew Nick in real life, I would know what was going on right now. I’d be with him through his time of trouble or driving him to see his mother in the hospital. I’d be taking care of Alex, the cat that owns him, while he took care of his obligations to his mother or to himself.
But here I sit, unable to do anything. I’m a “fixer” and I don’t know how to fix this.
Nick’s sudden departure from the blog world has shaken me up. I know his email address and his physical address and I’ve managed to track down his home phone number. I don’t want him to think I’m a stalker, so I haven’t called it, yet. Yet is the operative word. If I don’t hear something from him tomorrow, I’m going to call.
Does that make me crazy? I don’t know. It just seems like the right thing to do.
