One of my first computers was a Mac SE that my dad built. When I was finished with it, I returned it to him, and he still has it. It’s in the guest room closet. It might even still run. I mainly used it for WordPerfect, but it also had (has) some primitive iteration of CAD loaded onto it.
The death of culturally significant people is a strange thing. Even in cases like this, in which someone is visibly ill, I feel a distinct shock at the news. The shock is not the same as loss or grief (which are reserved for those who knew the person, and perhaps extended in this case to the design community at large). Instead there’s the regret of a potentially larger legacy abbreviated, and a general unease – almost completely unconscious – at the reminder that no one, however extraordinary, can escape the inevitable. I hope that he left this world easily.