Boots, I wanted to organize our thoughts into one place for you. I wanted to let you know how much we are going to miss your wit and your nature about the site for however long you need.
When you want to come back, and feel ready, I have organized all of our thoughts for you...
I'm glad to say that I am fortunate enough to have gotten to know Boots very well. She nicknamed me wolf due to my signature of . Since I spent a great deal of time in the Alternative Writing Workshop, we spoke a good deal and I read all of her stuff. It's a real window into her personality, and I feel like I know her thoroughly. She comments on my stuff, however sparsely and concealed it appeared. I have to say, she is one of the only people on h2g2 that I've gotten to know and not learned to dislike in one way or another. Her nickname is very ironic, Useless Hound. She strikes me as brimming with enthusiasm, helpfulness and joy. You never see her unhappy (Save for when she is talking about American Television ) despite all attempts to convince us otherwise. You'll see a small mention and a tribute to her on my personal space from now on... I'm so sorry to hear this turn of events. Just remember that we'll always be here for you, boots.
I was just about to visit useless hounds page!
I was attracted to the name, I love hounddogs
Then I saw this.
So sorry to read she has lost a loved one VERY close to her
I find useless hound anything but useless, and I am thinking of her a great deal at the moment.
The internet is such a strange place, we meet mind to mind, and sometimes heart to heart, and even so we feel we can hide and disguise ourselves behind our screens. It is sometimes hard to remember that there are real people on the other side of the interface. But some of the stories I have read of or been a part of here on h2g2 have touched me deeply, they remind me of our common reality in a way that meeting face to face so often fails to do.
Useless hound, my heart goes out to you in friendship and in fear. The fear is selfish - how can anyone (how could I?) deal with what you are dealing with now? The friendship, however, diluted by the keyboard, by the screen, by the modem cable as it is, is real.
Take care, my dear. We are thinking of you.
I'm so sorry for your loss and wish I had some words of comfort. But I never know what to say in times like these. Your writing displays a wonderful sense of perspective about life and its ups and downs. I hope that this quality will help you get through the difficult days.
I've found in my own life that when one door closes another one opens. Perhaps you can concentrate on your writing and use that as a way to work through your grief and frustration. Your writing has enriched all of us and we thank you for it.
The community here really does care about you. And we're always available to listen.
-U200042 (See also, Hypatia's wonderful poem for Boots included in The Post)
My gran used to be the centre of my mother's side of the family. She kept it together, kept all of us in touch. When she died the family got together one afternoon, great aunts, aunts, uncles, cousins, all of us, and you could sense all the broken links between us being remade. It wasn't 'doing without her'. It was recreating her part in the family, continuing what she had felt so important and we still had her with us, in each of us, in doing that.
From the little you have said I feel your Ravager was a quiet centre of your family, like my gran, and that you and your 'offsprung' share a great deal of love and strength. I can't imagine how it must hurt losing him but my hope is that you are all sharing that love and strength now, letting each support the other, strengthening the part of Ravager that exists in each of you, and that is where you will find the way through this. Take each day at a time Boots, take care of yourself, let others take care of you too. Come back when you're ready, we'll miss you 'til then.
This is a tiny window through which we glimpse each others' lives.
There are some like you, Boots, who are bright in spirit, and who illuminate the window.
Each and every life has light and shade. In the best-lived lives, where day-time is beacon-bright, the contrast with night-time may seem the starkest.
When you've known pure joy, the darkness can appear irredeemable. Just now, you might feel that your beacon will never be relit.
But the pattern of contrast has been reversed, Boots. The light will return, when the time is right. And after profound darkness, its intensity and vitality will restore you.
Certainty that the light will return can make all the difference now, believe me. It will admit the expression of your grief, and consolation in your memories. It will allow you to feel gratitude for the sympathy of others. Most of all, it will give a purpose to what you're going through.
Keep that thought close, Boots, until you light our window again.
I thought I'd leave you with something you said; "I'm with you both! Youth is great... love of life without the bitterness of experience!
take care young and old alike
Shazz wrote a nice editorial for the post. The first paragraph is on Boots.