There’s been too much death this year. I suppose there’s always too much death any year.
But now comes word that my friend, Eric Weaver, has died. According to his daughter he was on his way home from work and had a hypertensive heart attack. He was a year younger than I.
I suppose it’s to be expected as we enter our 50s. I suppose.
Eric was one of the patient, kind, good guys who lived in my world of geekiness. We met when we worked at WhoWhere? I knew we would be friends because he named one of the servers Ridcully. We both had a fondness for Luggage and Death too.
We both rotated around Don too. Eric’s mind worked in ways mine didn’t, and we both puzzled over how he could so easily pick up coding, while I looked at most of it as gibberish. Even with a translator like Eric, I never got the hang of it.
We exchanged quite a bit of email as I settled into my job at the Computer History Museum. Always pleased that I had found such a unicorn of a workplace, in complete agreement that Don would have also been pleased, and convinced they will eventually hire me.
I’ll always remember his goofy giggle, his uneven smile and those silly fanny packs he wore. I’ll also always remember his friendship and our fondness for Terry Pratchett characters.
Eric, I’ll miss you greatly. I hope you and Don are up to no good. I hope I remembered to tell you how grateful I was we were friends.