I wandered into a coffee shop today for the first time. I mean, I wander into a coffee shop most days these days, but usually it's a different one. For reasons too tedious and tragic to list here, many of the people whose company I learned to enjoy at my usual coffee shop no longer will set foot in that place. So I'm growing used to finding my friends, and my caffeine, at new places.

As I walked in and was getting my bearings, I noticed a familiar profile at the counter, and smirked to myself. Another acquaintance, I thought, had changed coffee shops, and that's why I hadn't noticed Woody around in a while, talking with his usual people. I'm getting used to adding people I sort of know to the "changed coffee shops" list.

Then I remembered why I'd been particularly sad to be not seeing Woody, and how sobering it had been to learn so much about a guy I'd been seeing around for years only by reading his obituary.

A frantic second glance confirmed that the profile was merely familiar, and not supernatural. Still, I was left breathless at how easily my mind reached out to see someone forever gone, given a chance. I am a fortunate man; death has not passed as close to me as many my age, or even half my age. I forget the power of it.

Hope the coffee's good where you are, Woody - thanks, if nothing else, for the reminder.