Not the best update ever...
It's been an unpleasant fortnight. However, today takes the cake...
My friend is dead. Without reason, without cause, without sense.
Although I suppose that's not exactly true. She died because she went to save her daughters from the fire that was devouring their home. It just seems to be that way from where I'm sitting. People had been talking to her, in game and via VoiP, moments before she disappeared and her internet connection was lost.
The girls are fine. Dozens of adults, many of whom she never met, are not.
My friend is dead, and I do not know how to tell you about her. I do not have the words to express how much of a loss I have suffered - all who knew her suffered - and how much more empty life is now that she is not in it. How much poorer those of you who did not get the chance to know her really are. My eloquence is gone.
I can tell you she was an artist and good at what she did. I can tell you she was 43 and far braver than I will ever be. I can tell you she laughed a lot. That she made good cookies. That she was caring and compassionate and always there when you needed a shoulder or an ear. That she was so very alive that to think about her being dead is impossible.
My friend is dead.
Beyond that, nothing seems to matter.
My friend is dead. Without reason, without cause, without sense.
Although I suppose that's not exactly true. She died because she went to save her daughters from the fire that was devouring their home. It just seems to be that way from where I'm sitting. People had been talking to her, in game and via VoiP, moments before she disappeared and her internet connection was lost.
The girls are fine. Dozens of adults, many of whom she never met, are not.
My friend is dead, and I do not know how to tell you about her. I do not have the words to express how much of a loss I have suffered - all who knew her suffered - and how much more empty life is now that she is not in it. How much poorer those of you who did not get the chance to know her really are. My eloquence is gone.
I can tell you she was an artist and good at what she did. I can tell you she was 43 and far braver than I will ever be. I can tell you she laughed a lot. That she made good cookies. That she was caring and compassionate and always there when you needed a shoulder or an ear. That she was so very alive that to think about her being dead is impossible.
My friend is dead.
Beyond that, nothing seems to matter.