I occasionally wander the kinjaverse to see what our brethren in related communities are up to. I see tonight that the O-Deck has suffered the loss of a longtime, much-beloved commenter. I am not an O-Decker, though I do read it, but I feel their loss of a longtime wonderful voice and great friend, and I offer them my condolences in their loss.
I've been on GT since the doors opened, and I can't remember that kind of thing striking us. Perhaps we've been lucky, perhaps we skew younger these days, I don't know, I think it's mostly luck.
But I also do wonder about the dozens, hundreds of faces and voices that have gone away over these many years. Just drifted off, most likely. Found other internet playgrounds, gotten involved with that "real life" I keep hearing rumors about, maybe. I like to think of them as having great things going on, doing things they love, having families and jobs and being too busy to check back in here once in awhile. Which is entirely understandable and fair. Lots of GTers have shared stories of personal loss; if we've lost GTers themselves it's been something I haven't seen. Which doesn't mean much, I don't see everything, I'm on and off like everyone else.
I've been suffused in death for the past few years. Parents, friends, relatives. My eyes keep flickering over ages on stories like "so-and-so dies suddenly of a heart attack" and I invariably think "damn, they were two years younger than I am now."
So tonight I made a little .txt file, titled "In the event of my death," and placed it on my desktop, where it will stay. Just a list of the (three) communities on the internet where I think people would mourn me and want to know. With sign-in info, passwords, etc., and a little message thanking them for the company, fun and friendship over the years. GT is first on the list, of course.
Is this morbid, or strange, do you think? Do others of us have these kinds of thoughts? My folks made it to ripe old ages, my dad died in his 90s, so I'm not planning on shuffling off this mortal coil any time soon (knock wood).
But you never know.