Fernando Sant'Anna died suddenly, unexpectedly Monday at home as a result of a stroke. He was 42, played bass and leaves two children and an awful lot of friends. He was a happy man. His combined wake and funeral yesterday was awkward and hard and very sad. The open casket held somebody that didn't look much like him. (This scowling obit photo doesn't, either.)

At the very end, at the cemetery, it got real. Fernando's best friend Jim said he hoped Fernando was in a better place where Harleys aren't always breaking down. We laughed.

Fernando's girlfriend Erin gripped a paper and spoke elequently of the man she knew and how much he loved his children and cared for his friends. With guts and passion, she made it all the way through to an excruciatingly soft and sad, "Goodbye, my love" that broke everybody's heart. A profound silence broke into a group sob.

Fernando once sought me out to tell me he read this blog, that "it's all good stuff." Today he's become part of it, archived forever in the annals of the Web.