It’s time for me to write something too.

Oh – I wrote about “loss” last week…and I wrote about “support” a few days ago… But I haven’t really written anything to my friend. And that’s mainly because I don’t even know where to start.

Or where to stop.

I can’t possibly tell her everything that is in my heart. It’s too much – a never ending, stream of conscious-mess:

SadAngryHopefulSorryIncredulousHorrifiedDisbelievingTerrified…

So I’ll just have to just pick one thing. And the one I keep coming back to is simply, Love.

I love Anna.

I’m serious – that’s it. That’s where the buck stops. Just Love.

And I’m not talking about some weepy, emotional, hyperbole-induced kind of love. I mean the mundane, regular jane, “my friend is so cool” kind of love. You know…like when you think about someone who has made you laugh more times than you can count and you say, “I just love ______.”

That’s it. That’s where it started and that’s where it ends.

Because as deep as friendship can be – it’s also so very simple. And that’s the lovely thing about having a friend like Anna. It’s easy.

And it’s fun. She’s really fun, you know.

I always wonder how I first found her blog because from what she tells me, she wasn’t really commenting on that many others at the time.

But one day, I did stumble across An Inch of Gray and the most recent post was about her mother. I loved it so much, I added her to my list daily reads (which at that time I could count on two hands).

This was sometime before I started my own blog in June 2008. And one of the first things I did as a new blogger was to leave a comment on Anna’s site.

I just went back to her archives to see when I did leave that first comment and I am DYING – it’s so funny:

“Hello, my name is Kate. We have much in common and I would be greatly pleased if you would consider becoming my new blogging friend…” The formality is killing me. And I have NO idea how I managed to say “block” instead of “blog” since you know I read that letter of introduction at least three times before hitting publish.

And her reply comment (you know – IN comments) makes me laugh too. “Hello weird, stalkerish commenter. You seem like you might NOT get your hair cut like exactly like mine, start wearing my clothes and then try to steal my husband… Perhaps I will read your blog for a little while, and if I feel it’s unlikely that you will try to hold me hostage or ‘disappear’ me into a furnace…then I might add you to my blog roll. Thanks for the encouragement!” [Please tell me you caught the Single White Female reference in that.]

So that is how we “met.” Later we discovered that we actually live near each other, and have had the opportunity to see each other “offline” as well.

But Anna’s blog is such a big part of my friendship with her, that I always refer to her as a “blogging friend.” There is so little time in the day and we have so many responsibilities…it’s inevitable that we would only get together once every two or three months. Time literally flies. But I always know what Anna’s been up to. All I have to do is visit her blog.

And that’s how I’ve gotten to know her family. That’s why I can say that I “know” a little boy I’ve only met in person a couple of times.

Blog friendships are real. And this one means the world to me.

And she’s so damn funny. Even when she doesn’t mean to be. Two examples of this can be found on her blog, right this very minute.

Anna may be one of the only bloggers I know who has had her site for several years, but never learned how to update her sidebar. That pretty design she has? Is not new. She did that a looooong time ago, yet you will still find this on her sidebar:

That cracks me up every time I see it. But it’s also so indicative of who Anna is as a blogger. She wanted a pretty design, but she spends more time writing than updating her sidebar. She never went to the trouble to come up with a “best of” list.

She’s never cared much about branding herself or monetizing her site. Not that there is anything wrong with either of those priorities – they’re just not hers. She loves writing. She loves telling stories about her family. And she loves making connections with other people and hearing their stories.

And she has always prioritized her readers, even when there were just a few of them (including her sister and some college friends). I remember her telling me that she was concerned that people had a hard time figuring out how to subscribe since the button was all the way at the bottom of her web page. So for a while, she included this helpful note at the end of each post:

I spotted that when I was looking for my first comment and it made me L.O.L.
I love that Anna makes me laugh even when she’s not trying.

She laughs at herself too – and at me. And she encourages me to take myself a little less seriously. This is an area where I need as much help as I can get.

A couple of days ago, I sent her a text asking when I could call her – since I didn’t want to intrude on her time with her family – and I ended with “Love you!”

Now, I should mention that I’m not much of a texter and I had to add her number to my iphone contacts before I could send the text. And shortly after I did, I worried that she might not have my number in her contacts either. And if that was the case – she would have this random text from an unknown phone number asking for a good time to call and declaring “LOVE YOU!”

That could be awkward.

So I thought I’d better clarify things and texted “Oh! And it’s me – Kate Hood.“

I guess I was in her contacts because she responded “I know who you are!“

I don’t know if I actually made her laugh. But I’m pretty sure that she was laughing at me in spirit.

It makes me sad to think that Anna isn’t laughing very much right now. If at all.

I wish I could make her laugh and forget for a little while. But that would be impossible.

I wish I could have written something beautiful about the service I attended – like her friend Glennon did. But I couldn’t even begin to capture it.

I wish I had some expertise in grief management. But I’m at a loss – I have no idea what would constitute a “right thing to say.”

I wish I could make it not have happened. But we’ve already been over that…

I wish I could make any kind of difference at all. But all I have are words. And meager jokes at that.

I have so little to offer my friend – when I want to give her everything…

So I’ll just have to come back to the same place I always do. I love Anna. It could never be enough. But guess it’s something. Something I do have to give.

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