I still don't know how to think about his death. I see my aging face in the mirror. The past is gone, but its etched itself into the wrinkles of my smile. And as I float through time's boundless regions, I still ask the question: "Why all this? Was anything that has happened in my life really necessary? And if so, for what possible purpose?"  Rob got his answer with one shot I suppose, but I'm gonna hang out for the end of this incredible ride. And maybe, on somebody else's face, I'll be etched into a wrinkle of their smile. I guess that's as good as any purpose in this incredibly short life.