Rest in Peace (but first, write about your life please)

I went to high school with around a 1,00o kids in a town where everyone knew everyone else and all their business (I joke as an adult that it was like Peyton Place. I’m not THAT old but Melrose Place seemed much more fun). It wasn’t totally tiny, but it was small enough to be connected with lots of kids. Even those that weren’t in your posse.

When I joined Facebook, I was pleasantly surprised to find classmates that weren’t my BFF’s in high school (which can change by the minute anyway) but were kind, nice, talented kids. They might not have been the most popular (neither was I ) or on my radar all the time (because I was pretty self-absorbed) but I liked them and they liked me. And, so in the virtual world, we became better friends as adults than we ever were as teens.

One boy that reached out to me was always one that I found to be fairly shy and sensitive. He’d moved away from town, married and had children older than my own. It was clear that he had pursued some charitable things and had diverse interests. Since he was always a nice guy, I accepted his friend request.

“You write.” he said to me immediately. “How do you do it? How does one start to blog?”

I answered back.

‘By accident. It wasn’t planned. It just happened. It flowed…”

We had lots of conversations like this. He wanting to know how to tell a story. Me, not knowing how to tell him how to begin. You see, I wasn’t quite sure how I had. I just did.

Then one day the conversation stopped. After months of him posting on my blogs and asking questions, he was gone. And, part of me wondered why. Did I offend him?

I later learned he unfriended me.

Tonight, I found out that he passed away. In reading his obituary, it’s easy for me to surmise that he had cancer. It’s clear that he was a contributor, made a difference and was much loved. He had a full life.

I have one regret. If I had known, I would have been clearer when we spoke online.

“Tell your story,” I would have said.  “Just begin. Sit down and write.”

I’m sorry it’s too late.

About debcb

All Deb wanted to do was work, until she had Rosie. For the past decade, she's juggled a full-time career, high-profile volunteer work and mommyhood.


  1. What a powerful way to start my day. Thank you, and I’m sorry for your loss.

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