A dear friend of mine passed away this morning. He was 93, and had lived a full, rich life, pretty much right up to the end. I'm not sad for him, but I am for myself because I will miss him. He was a very supportive and caring friend. I take comfort, though, in knowing that my life has been enriched by having him in it. He was a poet and I thought I'd take this opportunity to share one of his poems. It demonstrates his attitude toward life. STEALTHY DAYS The stealthy days come on in their usual fashion, sneaking through May, approaching the summer solstice. By the time that comes I will have had another late-life birthday. Well, I say, so what! Things keep happening, things of interest. It was only last week I put into words my affection for Darwin and William James--based on their openness, their unpretentiousness. And discoveries! My new admiration: the lovely books designed by Leonard Baskin, now on display at the Library of Congress. These small epiphanies seem to me OK things, and these stealthy days--I've never wanted to slow them, only to fill them. Robert Sargent (1913-2006) Rest in peace, my friend.