I’m getting my suit out for Cathy Seipp’s funeral and reading the tributes to her while TG makes sure it’s presentable (I don’t dress up much any more…).

And read one by Jim Treacher that made me stop for a moment, because it perfectly summed up my feelings.

It’s unbelievable that the whole time I knew this woman, she was living on borrowed time. (Not that a single one of us isn’t, but she’d been given a specific return-by date. Which of course she ignored 10 times over.) I wish I’d appreciated her more. I wish she wasn’t dead.

So do I, Jim, so do I.