There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief� and unspeakable love.
- WASHINGTON IRVING

I am acutely conscious of the intimacy of grief. That each person experiences losses in a continuum, one to the next, with each loss carrying its own special issues and significance.

Since Friday, my mind has turned often to Gyrth and Mel and Michael then by extension to Clan Oldcastle and all their friends.

I find myself reflecting on personal losses suffered and retouching wounds in some odd attempt to test the true level of healing.

Grief for me is an odd, disjointed experience felt in stages such as my spirit will tolerate.

I find myself lacking focus...trying to work but thinking of others. Still, I strongly suspect he would be impatient with that and so I find things to do even as my mind drift softly back.

When I spoke with him after Crusades, he was touched by all who wished him well and a bit bemused by the depth of support. We spoke of Mel, Michael and all the friends and family building the uber-ramp. He lovingly looked for Mel as each footstep approached.

He had a lovely blend of self-knowledge and humility with the spark of intellect and the sparkle of humor. I am thankful for the opportunities I had to share moments with him.

I will miss his practical and reasoned response to events and his sense of irony and perspective.

But most of all I grieve for those who are living with the loss of one so beloved.