The split second of recognition when I saw her photograph on my newsfeed and then shock as I read the headline that she was dead at 47 felt like how I found out Steve Jobs died. None of these people personally mattered to me, but dooce.com marked an era before influencers and social media.
When people wrote thoughts and feelings and events instead of showing photos and videos. Blogs were so much more – from their words you get a sneak peek of their most personal thoughts, their character, wit and personality.
You weren’t given a photograph to look at and be envious of – oh that looks like a perfect life and a lovely party. Yawn/fawn.
You were an insider. You knew how she felt about the people around her, what she loved and hated and what’s what. You knew what made her fall over laughing and what pissed her off. What she fell in love with – and you’d fall in love with it too because that’s the way she wrote.
Life is messy. And she showed it as it was most times without looking like she was selling or preaching anything but her thoughts.
And that’s what I think I miss from the ol’ Internet.
Reading some of her posts now and my heart breaks for her children.
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