 In a Weary World |
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You know, I was talking to a friend lately about email. And how one of the very best parts of keeping an online journal is the email that you receive. I wasn't really conscious of the profound impact of correspondence from readers until last year when the wedding was called off and I basically lost my mind and fumbled around wailing and drooling like an emotional invalid for a while there, and I am ashamed that I don't think I replied to most of the emails I received then. Before my mail server increased its capacity humongously this year, I was always over my quota because my packrat tendencies keep me from having any fewer than three junk drawers in my kitchen or deleting any emails in my inbox. As such, my sent mail wasn't saved, because there was never any room, so incoming emails were not marked with the little "reply" arrow to show that I replied to them. So I have to say that I don't know to whom I replied and to whom I didn't last year. I have absolutely no idea. And that honestly does shame me. I posted little excerpts of some of the emails in this entry and this one, but that didn't touch on all of the emails, and those were just from a short period of a few weeks. The emails continued with every hurdle last year, and along with my friends and family, I honestly felt like my readers were a big part of what was holding me up during that time. Like, literally holding me up, keeping me from lying prostrate on the floor collecting dust bunnies. You had such amazing stories, and some of you had the perfect words that I needed to hear in a given moment. To hear from those I didn't even know who had been through a broken engagement or some other kind of relationship horror (or even those who hadn't but just wrote to check on me or send me good wishes) was an immense comfort, because I felt so much less alone. Some were people I've known for years through my journal, some I heard from then and never since, and some have continued to write periodically. And I just want to say that I cherish every word that was sent to me. Even if I didn't write back -- that you reached out to me to tell me that you wished the best for me was an invaluable support. And I still have those emails, every single one of them. This doesn't even mention all the people whose advice about England and France basically shaped and molded and guided my entire trip and kept me from being a completely lost American spaz. Or the people who reply to my random notify list inquiries about retrieving deleted files or refinancing my mortgage or searching the world for someone or any number of other inquiries over the years. Or the emails that just steadily come in, sporadically or in a little burst, from people who find my journal in random Google searches. Or those who have actually sent me gifts. Or those who've written to answer some rhetorical question I've asked in an entry that I didn't even realize had an answer or to give me pet advice or just to introduce yourself and say hello and to let me know that you love the same movie or television show or book or author. Sometimes I am still flaky about responding. But receiving your greetings, your expertise, and your thoughtful comments always -- always -- means so, so much. You have given me consolation, you have given me commiseration, you have given me encouragement, you have given me wisdom, you have given me laughter, and you have given me strength. And I just wanted to go on the record. To say thanks.  About this time in ...
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