The last time I ever saw Jeff alive, he gave me a gift – an hourglass. And it took over two decades later for the symbolism to finally dawn on me: an hourglass, gifted from a young man with one foot planted in the next world. His time was running out. Even the hourglass he gifted me appeared to have been stolen – I imagine from the desktop of one of the school classrooms he was hired to clean. Not borrowed time but stolen.