Going through someone's papers, mementos, photographs and keepsakes makes you realise how much a human being copes with in a single life. We get through childhood, school, marriages, divorces, betrayals, estrangements, longed-for successes, significant losses and the deep wells of grief that they bring. And he was a delicate creature. I know there were lots of joys for Terry too - he did always call himself Mr Lucky. And if a life devoted to rock & roll didn't bring him the rewards he merited, it made him some valuable friends, it gave him sparkling stories to tell, and it gave him a soul full of magic that he never relinquished.
Of course, I'm thinking, too, that Terry won't be here when those big life events come for me.
He would want to be here.
You know that voice in your head that has been questioning your every motive, choice and intention since you were a kid? Everyone has one, except those folks who power on through life, entirely unburdened by humility and doubt. I can't be around those people.
The voice in my head has never been a staunch enemy of mine, but it hasn't helped much, either. It has made me the great prevaricator I am today.
Well, suddenly, mine has evaporated. Like Disney's Genie spirited back into the lamp.
These past months, Terry's has become the voice in my head. Every day. As it was in life, it is calming, persuasive, consoling, and, as he was in life, Terry is still my constant, quiet cheerleader. I hope he stays.
I hope he knew how much he was worth.
I think he did.
"I wear black after midnight
When I'm walking with the blues
They're picking up the glasses
Bringing in the morning news
But when the sun comes up
On that joyous hour
Orange is the happiest colour"