For Dewey

Last fall was a rough time for me and my book blog. I was struggling with depression for the first time in my life, while also going to grad school full time and working 20 hours a week. I barely posted in October, and then my laptop got messed up. Since I lived quite a drive from my campus, I was cut off from the internet except when I was at school. I had just begun posting again on November 26th. And then my fibro flared up, so I couldn’t drive. Finally, on December 2nd I felt a bit better and popped into my school library to check my Google Reader. And I saw a post titled ‘Tribute to Dewey,’ which seemed odd. I went to her blog and was horrified to discover that the day before her husband had posted that she had passed on November 25th. I couldn’t believe it; I started tearing up right in the library and had to make a quick dash for the restroom before I started sobbing. Then I just felt numb; I started thinking that maybe Dewey’s site had been hacked and this was a cruel joke. Maybe she’d joined the witness protection program and had to disappear. Anything, other than the fact that she was gone. I got into my car (it was night, so it was dark outside) and just cried until I had no tears left. Then I drove home and cried some more.

I kept hoping there was an alternate explanation, at the same time that I read all of those wonderful in memorium posts. I wrote a pitiful one by comparison: my eloquence flees in the face of such raw emotion.

And now it’s been a year, and I have yet to find the right words. I still sometimes imagine that she joined the witness protection program, and she’s living a good life some place. I imagine that she’s continuing to help teens in some way-she was so passionate about that I doubt a federal marshal could convince her to do anything else. I imagine her secretly reading our blogs, catching up with what we’ve all been up to and wishing she could comment without risking in her life. I imagine her knitting, with her non-wool yarn (she was allergic, and every time I work with bamboo yarn I think of her). I imagine her reading all sorts of books, and leading a book club now that she can’t blog about them. And someday, maybe, she’ll reappear online, perhaps under a different name but with that same wise, hilarious, welcoming voice. And once again, a blogger will suddenly become a huge presence merely for how wonderful she is at reviewing books and making book blogging more fun. I know it’s silly, but it makes me feel better.

And in the meantime, we’ll keep up her spirit. We’ll continue reading books we never would have heard of if it wasn’t for her. We’ll continue talking about her. We’ll continue to shun drama and divisiveness and pull together for fun and games as she had us do. We’ll continue to try to sum up all that she gave to us, and we’ll continue to fail. Because Dewey was larger than life, the role model to many of us, and one of the nicest, most selfless bloggers I’ve ever known. Not to mention the most significant. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her influence on our community. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her personally. So here’s to you Dewey: wherever you are, you should know that you made a difference in my life. And you were loved for that.