A Silent Memorial to Lloyd Skelton
Wednesday, July 6th, 2005
This memorial will be as much about Lloyd as what I
have taken away from this event. I first had the
privilege to meet Lloyd in 1994 when I started work
at a downtown architecture company. I was new on the
block, still going to school, trying to figure out
where to begin my career. I felt Lloyd was different
than most “computer” people. He was not stressed,
pulling his hair out, trying to meet deadlines.
There was something very peaceful in his personality
and the way he interacted with people. He was easy
to get along with and had many experiences to share.
After some time, I started to look up to Lloyd more
and more. We went to breakfast a couple of times at
one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall cafes and
talked about anything and everything. Eventually, I
started to learn from Lloyd and move my career into
new directions. Lloyd got me started in software
development and showed me the ropes. He was always
there if I had any questions. He was a true mentor
and friend.
I regret not having much contact with Lloyd since
leaving that company in 1996. The last time I saw or
talked to Lloyd was January 2002 at a party for a
mutual friend. He was the same Lloyd, a little more
grey and a little wiser.
What I will remember the most and hold dear to heart
is that Lloyd worked to live. He did not live to
work, and this is very important. Since I first
heard about him missing and now the reality that he
will not be returning to us, I have done much soul
searching. I feel too much of my live is spent
working and stressing about things we cannot control
and that may not add much meaning to our lives. Our
time here is short and my time here is short. I have
spent considerable time thinking about what I can do
to make my life more meaningful and push any
remaining years I have to the limits. The ultimate
sin we can commit is regret. Regretting that we did
not love enough, that we did not experience enough.
I have Lloyd to thank for opening my eyes.
Rest in peace my friend.
Written: 2005/07/05
Updated: 2005/07/06
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