One more

At the funeral the other day, Carol Anne comment that she didn't want to cry, because it wasn't "her place." Well, I could argue that -- she was Ian's caregiver, she's not close to her own parents, she's been part of that family for a long time. But I get the impulse, the desire to not put yourself in the centre of someone else's grief.

I'm feeling like that today. I got the news that bp is sick, has what is likely advanced bone cancer, unknown primary. I'm trying not to second guess prognosis, or to claim the grief and numbness. But I'm bitterly sad and worried, for him and his family and for me. His concepts have reshaped how I see myself, and how I aspire to engage with the world. He's not just a friend and mentor, but a meaning-maker in the best sense. A master of generative living. I feel an atavistic sense that if he isn't there as an avatar of generative presence, I will be less.