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Last day in Perth was dedicated to spending at Erica W.'s funeral at the Fremantle Cemetery. It was, of course, an opportunity for the living to catch up and express their sorrow at the loss of this marvellous and talented woman. There was, of course, humorous anecdotes, sound advice from the departed, and genuine outpourings of grief. I particularly feel for Lucas, her husband of the past seventeen years, who was very close to her in both the personal and professional sense. A sensitive soul in his own right, these must be very difficult days for him. The celebrant also mentioned that in several locations around the world smaller services were being held in her honour, a tribute to her scope and talent, and finished with a recommendation from the departed: Get weird!.

The day after my arrival in Melbourne was Lachlan's funeral at the Renowden Chapel at the Springvale Cemetery and Botanical Gardens (whoever thought of that combination had their head screwed on right). The inclusion of Lachlan's top-hat on the coffin was a particularly beautiful and sad feature. Again, almost in mirror form, included some frankly hilarious stories and reflection on those deeply honourable features of his personality. As Lachlan was in the habit of calling for birthday drinks, due in around a month, [livejournal.com profile] damien_wise and myself have stepped up to the task of organising one more celebration for this great individual.

It is a curious twist of the tyranny of distance and time that Erica W., and Lachlan S., never met each other. If they did, I am certain that they would have gotten along famously. With similar sensibilities, and quite clearly similar tastes in fashion, I have a mental image of Erica taking great delight in designing an outfit for Lachlan who, true to his style, would have worn it everywhere. I know there is a handful of people who knew both of them (including [livejournal.com profile] caseopaya). But I was the only one who was present at both departures. I feel like a curious trans-Nullabor bridge, a gregarious nature that has been blessed with the opportunity to know the spirits of two kindred individuals who should have met in life but never did.
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My arrival at Perth for the HPC Advisory Council conference was met with the news that Lachlan S., had passed away. He had been a good friend for many years and was well-received by all. He'd been working - as so many of us do - in various forms of IT support and provisioning. In January 2011 however he was diagnosed with a brain tumour, and as he said at the time, the worst sort. I recall it being mentioned that the medical prognosis was giving him six months or so. More than six years later, here we are, giving our parting words to one of the great providers of style and wit.

Style and wit? Lachlan would carry himself in the fashion of Victorian England, and not just on a special night out. Looking like a character from a Sherlock Holmes novel, cape, top-hat, and cane was not uncommon features. True, we did see him occasionally in black-clad t-shirt and jeans, albeit covered with a Victorian-era jacket. As for wit he could bring colour, charm, and insight to many conversations. Only a few occasions did I ever see him use this weapon of the mind in anger however - and invariably this was related to political issues. In that field one could fairly describe as a sentimental liberal socialist; he cared deeply about the rights and welfare of people, and there would be a spark when he saw instances of injustice.

Over the past several years there have been a few times when Lachlan and I have been particularly close. On his askance, I ran an RPG game of 7th Sea: Freiburg for over a year (his character rose from being a mercenary sargent to the military leader of a city), and following that Eclipse Phase, where his transhuman computer hacker bouncer was so well-designed I struggled to find reasons why he couldn't simply press the 'I win" button. It was also during this time that the Victorian Parliament was seeking submissions for their inquiry in to End of Life Choices. I had written two myself, and encouraged Lachlan to make a submission - his was of such personal import that he was asked to give direct evidence to the committee itself.

Like many I have been honoured by the time and friendship that Lachlan has given to me and to others. His birthday parties at the Back Bar in Prahan were invariably a great opportunity for so many of us to catch up in a setting and environment was well-suited for the company that he kept. I'm tempted to suggest that every year that tradition is continued. Because at the moment, all those moments are now but happy memories of the time we spent together. The world is a lesser place with his parting.

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