an appreciation of ter369
I think this is one of the hardest posts I have ever felt the need to write: it's in large part for me, but a message I got last night noted that joy is doubled, sorrow halved in the act of being shared, and that struck me as so right in this case.
The amazing, warm, thoughtful, caring, just plain special ter369 passed away yesterday, peacefully, in a hospice. She had been quite ill for a long time--I remember reading with shock the post where she first let some of us know that she was sick, and how potentially serious that it was. She chose to keep her condition quiet, because I don't think she wanted people to act differently because of it.
I have a letter here, with one of my grandmother's address labels on it (because of the wolf on it, always a favorite of Ter's) which was to be sent today, as I'd been neglectful the past two weeks with work and all of that. I don't remember when I met Ter on LJ, although with the magic of electronic records I can go and find it--maybe I will, when I'm feeling a little less heartbroken. And I don't remember when it turned into snailmail, but it did, and that's how we especially kept going over the past year. Ter had beautiful handwriting, very strong and clean, compared to my own loose and loopy markings. And she assembled her own cards--clippings from here and there, pictures, postcards with her own photos. Nothing ever made me happier than opening up my mailbox to see something from her there. And other little things--I have some of her scarves, including this old men's opera scarf, which I will wear for her when the season begins this fall. She shared and passed things on to people who would treasure and enjoy them. I kept all the letters, and I'm going to put them somewhere safe when I get back home.
I always hoped we would get to go to the opera together. We almost made it, although she decided not to go to NYC for the Iphigenie. She would have loved it. I stood in line for a rush ticket (and failed) and sat in the cheap seats to see Jose Cura, who she adored. I kept dreams of Helsinki (a city we both love) and Zurich alive, even when in retrospect, she must have known that it would never happen. I loved reading about her traveling and adventures, her people-watching and fine art at enjoying a city for what it is.
I'll also miss her thoughts about writing, from the worst badfic to the most popular novel. She was so interested in people--what makes them tic, what they want, who they are. She loved music and she loved opera and she loved it as drama, and she helped me in my own thoughts about what makes it work, which hopefully will help me finish this dissertation.
Please share your thoughts if you have them. Ter was in many ways a very private person, but also one of the most generous people I have ever known, and the world is a lesser place without her.
The amazing, warm, thoughtful, caring, just plain special ter369 passed away yesterday, peacefully, in a hospice. She had been quite ill for a long time--I remember reading with shock the post where she first let some of us know that she was sick, and how potentially serious that it was. She chose to keep her condition quiet, because I don't think she wanted people to act differently because of it.
I have a letter here, with one of my grandmother's address labels on it (because of the wolf on it, always a favorite of Ter's) which was to be sent today, as I'd been neglectful the past two weeks with work and all of that. I don't remember when I met Ter on LJ, although with the magic of electronic records I can go and find it--maybe I will, when I'm feeling a little less heartbroken. And I don't remember when it turned into snailmail, but it did, and that's how we especially kept going over the past year. Ter had beautiful handwriting, very strong and clean, compared to my own loose and loopy markings. And she assembled her own cards--clippings from here and there, pictures, postcards with her own photos. Nothing ever made me happier than opening up my mailbox to see something from her there. And other little things--I have some of her scarves, including this old men's opera scarf, which I will wear for her when the season begins this fall. She shared and passed things on to people who would treasure and enjoy them. I kept all the letters, and I'm going to put them somewhere safe when I get back home.
I always hoped we would get to go to the opera together. We almost made it, although she decided not to go to NYC for the Iphigenie. She would have loved it. I stood in line for a rush ticket (and failed) and sat in the cheap seats to see Jose Cura, who she adored. I kept dreams of Helsinki (a city we both love) and Zurich alive, even when in retrospect, she must have known that it would never happen. I loved reading about her traveling and adventures, her people-watching and fine art at enjoying a city for what it is.
I'll also miss her thoughts about writing, from the worst badfic to the most popular novel. She was so interested in people--what makes them tic, what they want, who they are. She loved music and she loved opera and she loved it as drama, and she helped me in my own thoughts about what makes it work, which hopefully will help me finish this dissertation.
Please share your thoughts if you have them. Ter was in many ways a very private person, but also one of the most generous people I have ever known, and the world is a lesser place without her.