Bob,

I have no idea where to send this, but I have to write it anyway.

You did so much, for so many people. You took care of so many things and yet you forgot one thing. Dammit, why couldn't spare a bit of that for yourself?

But that wouldn't have been you, would it? You always were one of the most giving, unselfish people I'd ever known. You helped people you barely knew and asked for nothing in return.

Dammit again, why, why couldn't you just spend a little of that to take care of yourself?

Okay, that's out of my system and I'm trying to recall the other good things here.

Like your love of jokes (usually bad) and your joy at sharing them. I remember many times that I'd groan then laugh with you just from the sheer pleasure you got from telling them. That was fun.

Remember those conversations that went far into the night, later than either of us needed to be up?

I won't say when we first talked, but it was long enough ago that a lot of current readers, and authors at the niche market sites you hosted or helped were still in Primary school. It started with a comment on one or another of our stories, moved to e-mail, then to chat rooms and private chats, then to the telephone. I never did get to meet you in person, and that I truly regret. At least I got to talk with you just before...

Anyway, I recall you teasing me about my characters and their attitudes, while pointing out little things that could be changed to help the story, or make it better. You were a much better writer than you gave yourself credit for, my friend. Much better.

That became very clear to me when we decided to write parallel stories using each others characters in our own story. Now I'll have to finish mine just for you. And me, I have to admit.

Back when the Whateley writers were looking for a home of our own, you offered one, without asking for a thing from us other than the stories.

In the years we knew each other, I heard so many things from other people about the good, the kind things that you'd done for them. Just because you could do it.

I don't know, maybe all the giving wore you out, or insured your place in whatever Heaven you are in. I hope so. Maybe some day we can sit down and I can endure your bad jokes again.

Anyway, you will be sorely missed, old friend.

In Loving Memory,

Maggie