From: Jay Dyson, CISSP (jdyson@xxx.xxxx.xxx)
Date: Wed, Oct 5, 2011 at 10:51 PM
Subject: Rest in Peace, Steve Jobs.
To: Jay Dyson (jdyson@xxx.xxx.xxx)



Hello folks,

As you may have learned by now, the visionary leader of Apple computers has
lost his battle with pancreatic cancer.

I know many folks did not care for Steve's way of doing things, and I
understand why.  Steve was brash, uncompromising, and did not tolerate
anything but the best effort from others.  For this and other reasons, I
always considered Steve a kindred spirit.

Steve's passing hits me on both a professional and personal level.  On a
professional level, I know that there's never again going to be someone who
fought so far to make things as seamless for the end user.  Though I once
derided Steve's work as "Macintoys," it did not take long for me to
appreciate the level of detail that made the Mac what it is.

On a personal level, Steve's and my life crossed paths in more than one
way.  Steve and I shared not only similar career paths and a fiery passion
to do what we felt was right.  We were also diagnosed with the same type of
pancreatic cancer in early 2004.  We also fought back with unmatched
fervor, choosing to disregard the odds and make our own destiny.

Through the mystery of the Lord's mercy, I was chosen to beat an otherwise
certain death sentence.  The type of pancreatic cancer Steve and I shared
kills 99.6% of those stricken within 18 months following diagnosis.  I had
hopes that Steve would enjoy the same miracle as was bestowed to me, but
such was not to be.

I won't kid you.  When I saw the September 2nd photo of how emaciated Steve
Jobs was, I wept.  I wept not only for Steve and his family, but also
because I was keenly aware that, but for the absence of a miracle, that
could have easily been me leaving my wife a widow and my children without a
father.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this missive, except to ask that we all
have a moment of silence in honor of Steve's life and work...and that we
all remind ourselves of the fragile hold we have on life itself.  I had to
learn the hard way what it means to slow down and appreciate the ones we
love.  I can only hope that Steve gained a similar clarity before his time
on Earth came to a close.

Thank you, and God bless.

- -Jay