The Language of Grief

I've always been a late night writer, and as I surf the blogosphere I see I'm not alone. Other women blog well into the night, finding a quiet space for their thoughts at the end of a busy day. Their voices seem magnified in the dark of night, their messages even more powerful and poignant.

In this manner I stumbled across the blog of one mother in California grieving the loss of her son. Painful, yes, but also meaningful. MysteryORiley offers lessons for the living and for families mourning. The blog teaches us that the small moments matter.

Its author reconstructs a young man named Owen. She does this memory by memory, small moment by small moment. And in trying to record all that she can about him, she connects him to readers as close as her neighborhood and as far away as the other side of the world. She introduces him to new friends and touches far more lives than he - or she - could ever have imagined in their shared time together.

All this from one woman tapping on a keyboard after dark, much like me.