Skype, death, and love

I’ve fallen in love with Skype lately. You can’t really talk to an infant or a toddler on a phone, and lately some of my closest friends are in faraway places and have lives preoccupied with little ones. So on Skype, I get to talk to them, and see their kids, and the 3,000 miles in between us feels much, much closer.

It’s been particularly nice this week. I Skyped with Pdxfoodmama three or four times this week, before and after the loss of her mother.

But I’ll have to stop passing covert terrorist messages from now on, because it turns out Skype is colluding with the Chinese authorities to monitor and turn over everything that gets discussed.

In a few hours we’ll be on a plane heading back out to Portland. In a little over 24 hours I’ll be at Pam’s funeral. And in 3 days I’ll be back here again. It’s kind of a whirlwind, but death does that to you. Sends you into a tailspin.

I remember when Hilary killed herself in 1993, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to tell everyone I felt attached to how much I loved them. I wanted to hug them all. Constantly. Death makes everything so finite, so fragile, I just want to hold on to what’s still here and never let it go.


~ by realsupergirl on October 2, 2008.

One Response to “Skype, death, and love”

  1. I’m sorry to hear about your loss but am glad you will get to go back for the funeral. I had a “no funerals” policy back in the early to mid nineties when I worked with people who were in the last stages of AIDS: I would visit them in the hospice but not attend the wake or funeral–because I felt like I would then never stop going. But after my grandmother’s wake and the wake of an Amazon Slam poet who died unexpectedly a few years back I really see the value of having a place and time where one can talk to and reminisce with the other people mourning.

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