Blogs and bigger things

I love blogs. In the almost 2 years since I read my first, I have been introduced to such courageous, funny, unique chroniclers of their own lives and times. Their stories, though almost completely obscured by anonymity, matter greatly to me. One of the personal losses, in fact, of our laptop theft last month, was my messily compiled bookmark folder of blogs I liked to check in on.

And as for me, I write this blog because parenthood is a revelation I am constantly struggling to process, and it helps to write about it. Becoming Lila's mother at the age of 36 (when I foolishly thought I had pretty much everything figured out) is a new threshold of joy, tempered by new fears of life's terrifying fragility. I feel elated and powerless most of the time these days, and in such large doses, both sensations scare me. Mostly I cover the elation here at La Vida Lila but today I have to mention powerlessness.

One of those complete strangers whose blogs I read died last week, from complications of the disease she was inspired to write about. I never knew her name until today.

It seems so unfair to me that someone who wanted so badly to live and to experience motherhood, did not get the chance to do either.

My heart goes out to her family.