A Mentor Dies
A man died a few weeks ago. A man of 83 years. He wasn’t the most handsome or flashiest of people. He was impressive however in many respects, went to Harvard, long time diplomat during the cold war and a poet.
During one of my many internships of my twenties, he became my mentor.
He taught me how to approach things, how to prepare and process the workload, edit and how the output should like at the end. I have had a few mentors in my life and I am grateful for all of them.
Nothing last forever. Everything changes. No one lasts forever. This statement is both true and wise. It is also deeply drenched in sorrow and loss.
This good man is now a memory. His entire life’s work, his existence, his thoughts, feelings, books and poems, will now be carried down river, away from the attention of the living.
He will be remembered, until he is not remembered anymore. I lifeforce recycled into nature. A former life cataloged into a file. A man transformed into a data point.
A data point that no one will look for, after a while.
A.G. Munson
