in 1993 his wife, Carol, died, suddenly, of a brain tumour. Their children were two and five. He was left overwhelmed with grief. In I Am A Strange Loop he consoles himself with the thought that she lived on in his brain: ‘I believe that there is a trace of her “I”, her interiority, her inner light, however you want to phrase it, that remains inside me,’ he told Scientific American in 2007, ‘and the trace that remains is a valid trace of her self—her soul, if you wish. I have to emphasize that the sad truth of the matter is, of course, that whatever persists in me is a very feeble copy of her.
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