I woke up this morning to the sad news that a blogger I’ve read for years lost her husband overnight.
For the last 13 years, Rebecca has shared what real life is like, the “raw unrelenting truth about this life in all its unpredictable, hideously unfair, gloriously enlightened glory” in this current climate with a family, including the last devastating four months after her husband Hal’s surprise diagnosis with stage 4 pancreatic cancer.
It’s an extraordinary thing that we live in a world where you can grieve so deeply for a family you’ve never met, only known on screens. That you have come to follow along for so long with real people throughout their real lives, including right until the end of them. That people (bless them) share these real, everyday stories every day.
They say personal blogging is dead and I’m sure it is from an economic perspective, but personal stories will never die. It’s why, I suppose, that reality TV and following people on Instagram are such massive industries – we all just want to see how other people really live. Fictional escapism is fun but at the end of the day we all want to know what Nicole Kidman actually eats for breakfast in real life.
I for one, am so very grateful that people do share the bits and pieces of their lives – I find it far more fascinating and entertaining and inspirational and realistic than other forms of media I could be consuming. I at times wish I hadn’t gone through the phase I did where I couldn’t get the words out I wanted to say – fear of judgement I wasn’t in the headspace to deal with meant I self-silenced to the point where nothing came out at all, not even fluff. What would I have said all that time if I thought nobody was reading?
But people do read. I read. Blogging goes two ways and there is a living, breathing mass of people on the other side ready to interact with what you’ve written. This could absolutely go either way and you really do never know what reactions you’ll get, good or bad (the bad often takes you by surprise and knocks the wind out of your sails for a bit), so I’m not sad I clammed up until I was ready. It was the right thing for me at the time. I never stopped reading, though, not for a second.
I’m coming up on my ninth year in this space, owning my story and saving it to read another day. I used to wonder why I did it so publicly, but the truth is I’ll never know. It’s a compulsion. It’s a thing. I’ve tried to stop and I can’t. I don’t want to. I’ve never done it for attention or fame and some may say then if I’m not doing it for that then why bother, but fuck it, why bother doing anything? We’re social creatures and stories drive us. We’re here to share and to listen. May we always keep writing and reading the stories of our very real lives.
Part of Rebecca’s stories (and what she does so well ) is dismantling society’s expectations about what women deserve and how little girls should behave. She has always been so candid about how motherhood changed her and continued to challenge her, and how hard it was sometimes to have a happy marriage in amongst it all.
Lately too, she’s taken her immense talent and turned it to describing grief and how to help families of the very sick and dying. It’s been enlightening and heartbreaking all in one.
So vale, Hal. I’m glad I got to know your story alongside those of your family. I’m a better person for knowing them.
Im glad that your still here telling your story and sharing with us, and im sorry for your sad news x
It really knocked me around today x
I’m so glad you’ve written about Rebecca and Hal! I’ve been reading her blog for 10 years, and was shattered when she revealed Hal had terminal cancer – like, actually couldn’t sleep that night. It is very surreal to feel so much emotion for someone you’ve never met in real life, and aren’t likely to! The recording of life has been on my mind lately, after attending the funeral of a dear friend’s father. They had such a wonderful record of his life, and it’s made me more mindful of making sure I leave behind my story and help them record the beginning of theirs.
I live for a good story and am super grateful for folk like you who tell yours!
It’s a very real grief and pure sadness for five people left behind that shouldn’t have had to go through this. Your heart really goes out to them.
I love that we get to look back on letters and diaries and the tangible things that make up a life. My pop left memoirs, extensively typed and neatly filed. Apparently they are PURE FIRE though, chock full of drama and controversy. Amazing! What a bombshell to leave behind for the rest of us to marvel over. Good luck with your own records!
I’ve never heard of these people but I clicked onto her instagram and as I scrolled down your comments were always there at the bottom. I cried because you were such a good friend to them, so encouraging and hopeful and caring. I wonder about my blogging all the time but I never wonder about the true and eat felt connections. I’m so sorry for that family’s loss and for yours. xxxx
I hope you never feel self doubt because your blog is so important. SO important.
I stopped reading Rebecca’s blog a few years ago but as I read your words I still felt so sad. Life is fucking rough……
Like you, I am so thankful for people who keep telling their stories. I think people forget how isolating life can be sometimes even though you’re surrounded by people and have great friends, knowing you can click on someones blog and feel a connection, whether its family, food, books, feelings, that connection feels real and just as important as the real life ones.
As I always say, you keep writing, I’ll always be here reading. Don’t ever doubt that xxx
when they first spoke of it on facebook I was stunned. He looked so well and it was so advanced.
I am still in shock.
My first thought this morning was Halloween. How I adore their hilarious Halloween costumes and this year. *sigh*
It really fucking sucks.
It’s our stories that we want to share the good and the bad. I don’t hold back in my posts on FB about how I feel about things and I hope that my story resonates with someone else. I got to follow you by chance. I love reading your posts and have done over the years. Love your little family and your gorgeous girls. I didn’t know the family you are talking about but intend on reading her blog now I’ve seen your post. Births deaths marriages divorces life is both fucked and great . Losing 5 relatives in a space of two years was decasting and our lives as we knew it changed. I miss them all so much and it wrecked me this year. Nobody prepares you for any of it and it’s fly by the seats of your pants.
Don’t ever stop sharing Stacey, although I never planned it I have many friends via this medium although not able to pop in for a coffee, but there if I need and I count you as one of them. I’m so sorry for your friends loss. It’s fucked. There are no other words for it. Xx
it’s so true. life is such a clusterfuck sometimes and it makes you feel a little less alone to see other people having the same problems we are. I’ve learned so much about grief and how to help people going through it from Rebecca’s posts, I’m so glad she has taken us all on this journey with her.
I hope you’re feeling ok now though? Must be hard coming up to christmas x