Double Take
I have a program for my blog that tracks the people that read it. I can’t tell specifics, sometimes just the states people live in or how they found my blog, what terms they Googled to get here. I was really into doing this early on because I was fascinated with who read my blog. Now, I sometimes forget to check my stats for weeks at a time. Since my readership is fairly small, it just doesn’t make much sense to me. I generally know who reads and who doesn’t.
I’ve learned over time that the stat counter can be way off in terms of geography. IP Addresses aren’t always accurately located and the program will sometimes tell me that my roommate, who works in Manhattan, works in Arizona because…well. I don’t know why, exactly. But my point is: it’s not an exact science unless of course a comment is made and I can sync up the IP Address definitively. Awhile back, I wasn’t so in tune with the fact that the stat counter could be inaccurate so I would label the IP Address by location, sometimes just guessing at who it was if they were a regular reader.
Apparently, I labeled Father Donald’s IP address back when he used to comment, back when I assumed that the PLANO, TEXAS blog reader was him.
I recently logged onto stat counter for the first time in a long time and nearly jumped out of my skin when I noticed a few instances of FATHER DONALD reading my blog earlier this week.
Naturally, that was an inaccurate guess on my part. As obviously, that Plano, Texas reader is not Father Donald.
Because he isn’t alive anymore.
And I completely remembered, all over again, that he wasn’t here. And he wasn’t going to comment anytime soon.
I wanted to laugh because it was such an absurd feeling, that maybe Father Don was logging onto the blog from heaven, checking on what was new.
But then I didn’t feel like laughing because I felt like crying and I felt sadness and heaviness for the transiency of people and things. And I sat there as still as could be, aching, knowing that everything is temporary and nothing stays forever but oh how sometimes, I wish it could.
Well Washington state say’s HELLO!!
Hey Washington State! You made me laugh, Laura. Holler back peeps. Tell me where you really live. Cheer a girl up, would ya?
Batavia, IL (and previously Davis, CA) says hi!
People are forever, because the soul is eternal. And the world is eternal, too:
“Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”
If you believe in that sort of thing.
When I wrong others, or they wrong me, I tend to think that there’s unfinished business and I’ll probably be seeing them again, because eternity is a long time. I feel the same when I do someone a good turn, or someone does me a good turn. I’ve received kindnesses from total strangers on so many occasions. I try to do the same for the people that I encounter in this life.
I’m working as a concierge in an apartment complex, now. A family moved out yesterday. As a lady prepared to push her baby stroller out the door for the last time, she turned towards me, saying I was so kind and thanking me for everything. I said, “You’re welcome,” and she went on her way.
What had I done for her? Nothing much that I could think of, actually. Just greeted her when I saw her and wished her a good day. Perhaps got a few parcels for her from the package room a time or two. But her last words to me were so wistful and seemed to me to be filled with the sense that she’ll probably never see me again and could thus never repay my kindnesses, whatever they may have been or however minor they were. But I just thought about eternity and that we’ll all probably see each other again someday.
Some friends of mine have recently decided that they don’t want my friendship anymore. They think I did a wrong thing. They’re probably right. But it’s hard to get too worked up about it when there’s all of eternity to make things right. They won’t give me the chance in this life. But I take comfort in my belief in the next.
Which is all my way of saying that I don’t think Father Donald is temporary. I don’t think anyone is. I know you aren’t the Christian that you were in your youth. But if you’ve retained any of your faith, belief in an eternal soul is about as basic as it gets. So shed your tears, feel that sadness, that heaviness and that ache. But the things that matter do stay forever.
In a slightly related way (but not sad, just funny) I found a comment from myself on my own blog that I didn’t post. For a moment, I freaked out thinking that someone had hacked into my account and my whole blog would be ruined. Then I read the comment and realized it was my mom. I must have signed in on her computer and never logged out. The “Love, Mom” tipped me off.
I can understand how that’s a strange feeling. After losing loved ones, I remember thinking there was some sign from them, and then the realization that it wasn’t them, most likely a coincidence just made me sad again.
Hi! I’m Kelly and I’m living in West Virginia for a year. I found your blog on Crunchy Chicken’s blogroll and am probably one of those IP addresses who shows up twice a day on your statistics because basically I think your blog is great and sometimes I get really bored at work. Thanks for brightening up some dull work days!
That is such a strange feeling. I still sometimes think, “I need to call my Nanny,” even though she’s been gone three years now! And I haven’t taken my Grandpa’s number out of my phone yet. It’s crazy how you can forget sometimes that someone is really gone. Or maybe the reason we “forget” is that we still think of them so they’re not really gone. Who knows? Either way it’s unsettling.
But I don’t think Fr. Donald checking in on you from Heaven is absurd at all. Totally sounds like him.
Riverside, CA
Kelly – I love you! Hi!
Alex – HOLLA.
Ash – So true! So strange! And also, completely typical of Father Don that SNEAKY MAN. Life/death = weird.
Hi! from Texas. Your Mom is a friend of mine through Fr. Donald. She led me to your blog. Very enjoyable. I too miss Fr. Donald very much. He sneaks into my thoughts every day. He was such a character and had so much impact on so many people. Truly an amazing individual!!! I don’t know what heaven will be like, but I hope to see him again some day. Jo Ann