Searching for the Moon

Shannon Clark's rambles and conversations on food, geeks, San Francisco and occasionally economics


Posted by shannonclark on September 27, 2002

I had a great day yesturday…

until it was today, and I read a certain sign

Yesturday was a truly great day. My business made major progress on three fronts at once, which may mean that my time and revenues are known until the end of this year at least – so hard to get much better than that in one day.

Then in the evening I had a date, with a beautiful woman, who asked me to call her again.

Not a wildly passionate evening – but then those are very rare in my life, and especially when we both have to get to work early the next day (though, perhaps if wild passion was involved that would fade in importance…) but still a really great wonderful evening, listening to amazing music, but more importantly listening to and being with a really smart, really attractive woman with perhaps the most amazing eyes and smile of anyone I have ever known – eyes I could be lost in, and a smile that lights up the room.

So, after all this, I came up, dropped my bags in my apartment, and ran out to the local Walgreens to pick up some milk. And while my experience their with the caliber of clerks who staff a Walgreens after midnight on a weeknight, is, quite amusing, that is not what I am writng about here.

Rather, it was the small, simple sign posted on the announcement board for my condo that I read on my way to the elevators as I returned home.

One of the long time and very active residents, a former board member for the condo association, and one of the people I met during my first days moving into the building, died yesturday morning.

The wake is Saturday, the funeral Sunday – I think that I will probably go to at least one. Though I was not a close friend, he was someone whom I always said hello to when I saw him. He was a very friendly man.

He was also probably only in his mid-50s, may be early 60’s but I doubt that, he did not seem to be sick or suffering. Indeed I think I had run into him only a few weeks ago – though now I am trying to remember exactly when that was.

He lived four flows below me, and a unit over from where I live (well technically one and two units over – he lived with his wife in a combination unit that was built from combining a one-bedroom with a studio – into perhaps one of the nicest units in the entire building).

He also owned many other units in the building, he was a realtor and seemingly a very good and successful one.

It stopped me up short as I read that simple sign saying that he “passed on Thursday morning” – no explanation about how or why, but instructions about when the funeral, wake, and reception would be – held here in the common room (“party room”) for the condo.

Very strange, at the end of one of the better days of my life – this is what I read as I start the very next day.


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