His name was Peter Loke and I forgot his name. He greeted me by name as we stood in the Suntec covention hall elevator together with the guest workshop speaker on a wheel-chair. I was impressed he remembered my name, and I felt I had mattered to him. I was embarassed and perturbed that I knew his name but my mental secretary could not retrieve the folder with his name in it. Granted he was an acquaintance I got to know in merely a few meetings a decade ago when he explained to me some of the Eagles ministry programs. He was gentle, friendly, warm and clear in communication. I liked him and wondered why this nice guy wasn’t married then. I remembered having pulled his leg about this until one day he happily informed me he had tied the knot, and I went, Praise the Lord, that’s wonderful! So I kicked myself for not remembering his name and later during the leadership conference when I found out his name I was looking for an opportunity to say, Hey Peter Loke, so that he knows he is somebody to me, but it was not to be. Now its really too late. This morning I saw three obituaries for Peter Loke and my heart dropped like a breakfast plate. Lord, he’s just about my age. Another one just after Anthony Yeo is one too much. I wish I had remembered his name. I wish I had time to say, Hey Peter Loke! I wish I had coffee with him. Now he has gone home.