“Who cries over a politician?” I asked today, because, naturally, the already apparent answer was “me”.

“People with other stuff going on,” my aunt suggested.

The worst was the choking up while trying to explain to Ian why I was choked up. “The thing is, I was always fascinated by Jack Layton and Olivia Chow – it was like they never missed a step not only in fighting the good fight but in presenting the right image. No word was ever uttered that didn’t sound full of conviction. No matter what anyone ever thought they’d dug up, they never missed a beat in answering it and the real story would come out making them look just more down to earth and good-hearted.

“I didn’t understand any of that, but I believed in it, and maybe that’s because it excused me from getting out there and fighting more for my beliefs. I could say ‘well good thing there are people like that around to fight for what’s right because that’s certainly not me, I just don’t even understand how they do it.’

“But now there’s one less person with whatever ineffable quality it is, and I don’t know if there ever was such a quality or just a guy who said, ‘people who make a difference don’t exist unless you make yourself into one.’ “

By which point I was very teary and had to reiterate, “Who cries over politicians?”

“You’re not crying over a politician,” Ian said, “You’re crying over the loss of a good person.”

Which was not much comfort.