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Megan


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For quite a few years now I've enjoyed a daily correspondence with @meganiwish We chatted about this and that, like neighbours over a back fence - the minutiae of daily life, cooking, baking, books, movies, TV shows, politics, Bexit, Covid, reminisces of childhood, the state of the world, you name it. When I say daily, I literally mean daily, and for years - more than 5000 letters in all, some fairly brief, others quite long. Although she lived in my town, I never met her - it was a pen-pal relationship that over time grew into a very close friendship on both sides; speaking for myself, I felt as though I were writing to a favourite cousin. Sitting down to write Megan was an important part of my day, and I always looked forward to receiving her letters as well when I fired up my laptop each morning - we kept different hours, she and I; she was a night owl, and I was up very early. 

I knew she lived alone. I knew she had a heart condition. One morning, after a week during which her letters had been uncharacteristically brief because she'd been feeling poorly, there was no letter. Alarmed because she really hadn't sounded at all good in her last communique - just a few garbled words, I had already been trying  everything I could to locate her, but because we'd always maintained that distance - the very distance that allowed the friendship to prosper as it had - I couldn't get an address, or contact any family, or send any help. I could only log on each day, hope for word. None ever came. Last week one of her children contacted me through this forum - they knew about our friendship - and informed me that Megan had died, alone in her flat, probably very shortly after sending me the last note, and that she was found some days later.

I feel utterly sick about it. Ours was an unusual friendship to be sure but it meant a great deal to me - more than I realised at the time; writing to Megan every day for seven years had become so much a part of my life I couldn't imagine anything else. And now there is this aching gap in my world. She was wittty, urbane, extraordinarily intelligent, with a delightful turn of phrase - truly a world-class writer and social observer. In a just world she would have been a prominent essayist and columnist. I miss her terribly. And so I am going to be taking a break from here for a while - at the moment it's too painful to log in and not see the little red dot on the message icon.  I just wanted to unburden myself, tell somebody about this remarkable friendship and my own sense of loss. It has been cathartic writing it at any rate.  

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In the 5000-odd letters Megan and I exchanged over the years - nearly three million words in all! - we never discussed high heels either.

I saved our correspondence and was astonished to see we had written nearly three million words! Triple what the famously wordy Proust wrote in his multi-volume Remembrance of Things Past. 

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Shyheels, 

I was in Arizona over the winter and didn’t have much contact here on the forum so am only now seeing this. I remember her perky postings and it warms my heart knowing you developed a digital pen pal relationship with her. I say that because I developed a pen pal in 1978 and she is now an independent musician in Vancouver and has met my wife and kids. Her mother became my Western Canada “grandma “ and fond of my kids. She passed in 2021. So much we received in return for a 15 cent stamp on a letter sent 44 years ago. So I imagine it indeed hurts. Hopefully the grief is somewhat lifted by the words of support you receive from my heart to yours. From others here as well to you. These are the times when our words can wrap the grieving like a warm blanket. HappyinHeels 

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