But there it was. Those nights sitting up late with my daughter, I'd go to my computer, dial up the WELL, and ramble. I wrote about what was happening that night or that year. I had never laid eyes on them. The WELL was always awake.
Any difficulty is harder to bear in isolation.
There is nothing to measure against, lean against. In typing out my journal entries into the computer and over the phone lines, I found fellowship and comfort in this unlikely medium. I am sitting in the dark of my daughter's room. Her monitor lights blink at me. Above the monitor is her portable suction unit.