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Today, I worked in the office from mid-morning to mid-afternoon, taking care of another book order, copy stuff, and library stuff.

When I left, I saw a number of people in dark clothes, looking sadly serious, walking into campus. Funeral on campus, I thought. And thought nothing more of it.

Later, I called a friend about biking. She wasn't up for going because one of her daughter's friends had died, and she wanted to be around for her daughter. She said in passing that her daughter's friend had been an English department grad, and then she said his name. One of those smart, fun students, she'd been in my class a couple years ago. Her death was unexpected and sudden, I gather, and a complete shock to all her friends.

I went for my ride, and thought about my student once I got into the rhythm of peddling.

I didn't connect the two until a few minutes ago, when I checked the on-line edition of the local paper to see about a memorial service. It was this afternoon, on campus. Yes, the folks I saw were going to mourn my student. I wish I'd known, because I would have gone. It's not that I knew this student super well, but I wish I'd known.