Monday, September 25, 2006

Missing John Mike Ford

When Cullen and I went to Fiddler's Green a couple of years ago we had the immense pleasure of sitting in on a panel about what happens to Gods when they die. Almost everyone else had gone to a panel where Neil and company were making a comic right before the fans' eyes so there were just a few of us in the room. Mike was on the panel and I had the honor of telling him how much we loved him, which seemed to fluster him a little. I was slightly lost and asked what a trope was, and even though that's a terribly basic question, he explained it without making me feel he thought I was stupid.

That was important to me because Mike frequently made me feel stupid, not because I am, or even think of myself that way very often, but because he was such a genius and so good at everything. He was an amazing poet, writer, shoot, he seemed to be good at everything, including charming Cullen, who was still incredibly shy when we went to Fiddler's Green. Cullen never spoke to Neil all weekend, despite interacting with him several times, he mostly bowed and smiled a lot, but he walked right up to Mike to tell him he had great eyebrows.

This morning when I logged into Making Light and saw that Mike had died I felt like the world I was on crashed and veered off course, shooting off to the left into a terrible, dark universe where I would never again be impressed, or pleased, or amazed, or delighted, or soothed in quite the same way again, while the real world kept on going carrying Mike away on it.

I've spent most of the day crying and thinking it can't be true. I'm sort of appalled at how bad I feel, I've only ever been this upset once before and that's when Dan died.

Mike, you left us way too soon and I miss you terribly. Godspeed to your next destination; may they appreciate you as much as we did.

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