So much the champion of joy
In more ways than I can count, Terry was above all else a perennial optimist. And, by "optimist," I don't mean merely someone who maintained a positive outlook, although he did, and it never dimmed, not in the slightest.
By "optimist," I mean that he taught us to value every second of life, to cherish the minutiae as much as the grand plans. He brought us together, showed us the meaning of joy, and fun, and lightness, and neverending, easygoing happiness. When we, the incessant pragmatists, mired in things like logistics and expense, Terry brushed it all away with incomparable flourish--you were put here to enjoy your life, and love others. What, then, were you really allowing to get in the way?
He was magic and Betty Crocker incarnate; countless were the mornings that he had buzzed around the kitchen and made coffee and breakfast casserole before some of us could even roll out of bed. There was a pervasive halo of delight that surrounded him, and more than any other person on Earth--and those of you who met him know what I mean--to know him was to love him. For that matter, to meet him was to love him. He wasn't just disarming, and sweet, and funny. He was genuine.
I will miss him, not just because we suffer such a loss in his absence. I will miss him because he won't be just an e-mail or phone call away anymore, and I still haven't truly been able to get my heart to understand that, despite mourning that all day.
