Tenashachor.
I knew tenashachor through the Seagoth community; he was coming into
it as I was drifting out, during the time the community stopped centering
around a mailing list and started to revolve around a
web board. I never
really got into the web board, but Ten did, and he became one of its most
active and widely-known members. Seeing him always made me feel a little
strange and wistful; he was one of the New People, one of the people I
felt a little estranged from as the community shifted and moved on, but
still someone I liked and wanted to spend more time with. I never got to
know him. I wanted to. I always assumed, I guess, that there would be
time enough to.
There wasn't. I found out today that Ten has died. Complications related to diabetes, the early reports say, although those reports are a little uncertain and confused.
I never got to know him. But I've been crying over the loss all day. A little surprised to learn that my heart counted him as a Friend.
I've often thought that he was the best of us. I really did. He thought of himself as our Protector, and he meant it; he refused to let any of the Seagoths, and of his extended chosen family, go hungry or unhelped, if there was anything he could do about it. He was often abrasive, aggressive, cocksure, but under it all was an unmistakable wellspring of boundless love and compassion.
He had been through so much, but I never saw him feeling sorry for himself. He was filled with life and fun and never seemed afraid of appearing childish. I'm always going to treasure the memory of him out at the Mercury with a collection of green plastic army men, at play among the fashionable and pretentious, staging battles between tables and urging all around him to join in.
He can't be just gone. He can't. I'm very angry tonight, angry at God and the world for being like this.
Our Protector is gone. We'll have to look after each other, now.
There wasn't. I found out today that Ten has died. Complications related to diabetes, the early reports say, although those reports are a little uncertain and confused.
I never got to know him. But I've been crying over the loss all day. A little surprised to learn that my heart counted him as a Friend.
I've often thought that he was the best of us. I really did. He thought of himself as our Protector, and he meant it; he refused to let any of the Seagoths, and of his extended chosen family, go hungry or unhelped, if there was anything he could do about it. He was often abrasive, aggressive, cocksure, but under it all was an unmistakable wellspring of boundless love and compassion.
He had been through so much, but I never saw him feeling sorry for himself. He was filled with life and fun and never seemed afraid of appearing childish. I'm always going to treasure the memory of him out at the Mercury with a collection of green plastic army men, at play among the fashionable and pretentious, staging battles between tables and urging all around him to join in.
He can't be just gone. He can't. I'm very angry tonight, angry at God and the world for being like this.
Our Protector is gone. We'll have to look after each other, now.