I had a dream about Tim a couple of mornings ago. I was walking down the aisle of a train and came upon him sitting in one of the cars. He gave no sign of seeing me, but in my dream I contemplated him, his squarish head, His beard, his narrow, very intelligent eyes that always look keen, even when he’s in repose. There was that usual sense of sadness and inevitablity I feel on those rare occasions that I see him or hear from him.

The Tim from my 1980s diary, the software engineer boyfriend who brought me out here in 1986 during the Silicon Valley Gold Rush, was living in Mill Valley by then. He died quite suddenly and tragically in 2003 from a pulmonary embolism.

I still miss him. The world is less interesting without Tim around to comment on it.