When your father dies, people say many things to you, much of it the same thing. Sorry for your loss. Condolences. May he rest in peace. You will not remember words. You will remember kindness.
Mary Schmich, Chicago Tribune
I had a privilege of being under one of Raimund Genes teams as he led the Core Technology group in Trend Micro. He was a lively speaker, a vibrant storyteller and a true visionary.
I remember my happy moments with Raimund; when he caught me wearing a controversial shirt in the office (and his reaction was precious), when one time he complimented me on a blog article I did for the TrendLabs Security Intelligence Blog :), while attending his training on presentation skills, he asked me why I have that kinda evil smile on my face while he was presenting one slide and I awkwardly have to explain the reason why. And who would forget all his hilariously catchy costumes at our TrendLabs Christmas Parties. Fun times indeed!!!
I will greatly miss his presentations, his cute way of saying “The malware, the threats, the cybercriminals”, his unique accent, his explanations on European laws (he usually discussed it together with the US ones) and his thoughts on how it may impact my projects and modules plus a lot of other technical and geeky discussions. I will forever cherish the learning and insights from Raimund.
I’m sharing our CEO’s Tribute to Raimund.
<video courtesy of Youtube and TrendMicro.com>
Words cannot express my sadness so let me share some lines from an old article I’ve read.
When your father dies, it doesn’t matter that other people’s fathers have died, that fathers have been dying since human time was born. What matters in the moment of his death is that he was your father. Your one and only. Your loss is unique, profound, yours alone.
…
When your father dies, people say many things to you, much of it the same thing. Sorry for your loss. Condolences. May he rest in peace. You will not remember words. You will remember kindness.
…
When your father dies, the small particulars of his life, the kind you barely noticed when he was alive, grow into revelations.
…
When your father dies, you will become more intrigued by the life he built from the childhood he was given.
…
When your father dies, you start to know him better. “Oh,” you think, a long time later, “now I get it.”
…
But every now and then, when the sky is a particular shade of blue, or you spot a man with a familiar build on the street, or you hear the chatter of a ballgame on the radio, you will feel a knot in your chest, and to no one in particular, you’ll say, “Dad.”
🙁
More of that touching article here courtesy of Chicago Tribune and Mary Schmich.
My thoughts are with Raimund’s family, his wife Martina, and his two sons.
And I am offering a short prayer for Raimund to end this post.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord,
And let Your perpetual light shine upon him,
May he rest in peace, Amen!
Amen!