He went missing on a Greek Island. I’d heard his voice on the radio, often. A gentle voice, kind, I think. He was campaigning about fitness, about taking personal responsiblity. One good thing. One thing that we could do to live longer. To live well. They found his body, days later, with that purple umbrella by his side, his guard against the sun. Devastating. His wife had said through the media that she wouldn’t give up hope. And now it is confirmed. He is gone. Gone. Poor love. Poor loves. Ah, so much pain. What can we do with it but live it? All of it. Rest in peace, sweet man.
