We may be a generation apart but I count her among my favourite people in the world. When news reached me that her husband and best friend was gone, it broke me. The love she has for him is palpable, a tangible affection that reflects in her eyes every time she says his name. And why should he be stolen? Rent from her heart in swift and violent aneurism. Seems God has lost his sense of humour this time. Or heaven lacked so he took back one of the best.
My heart breaks for her. For the moment it becomes reality and she sits in her quiet house, or wanders to the barn to hug the horses who always love her back, or sees the new toothbrush she just bought him that he'll never use.
I was blessed to stand quietly on the stage while his life was honoured. Blessed to celebrate his life with the soft strum and pick of my guitar. Blessed to listen to the words of the song, so capturing the essence of his heart - a little secret between her and I - this secret obsession of ours.
I didn't know him well but I knew him enough to know that the world has a little less sunshine now that he's gone.