I just found out that a man I highly admired and respected passed away. Two years ago. I suspected it, but I couldn’t bring myself to confirm.
He was my ex’s grandfather, but I was proud to call him a friend. He gave me a pen once. Government issue. I still carry it. It still writes.
It’s a strange legacy, I know, but it would befit one of the most interesting men I ever had the fortune to meet: flight surgeon for the Apollo program, innumerable medal recipient, and raconteur extraordinaire. He influenced my decision to learn to fly.
Rest well, Colonel Weeks. I’m sorry I missed it.