Father's Day

Well, Father's Day pretty much sucks.

In remembrance of my Dad, here is a poem that my mother finds comforting. She saw it in the paper -- it may have been in a Dear Abby column, I'm not sure -- and she cut it out and carries it with her.

It's the Queen Mother's Funeral Poem, by David Harkins.

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Dad (and my brother) at Dad's 92nd birthday celebration.

Dad had a lot of trouble hearing, and he couldn't see much at all because of macular degeneration, but no one could tell. He walked around at his birthday party and spoke to everyone there, he laughed a lot and was just as social as ever.

I guess I shouldn't say that Father's Day sucks for me now, I guess I should take time to remember my Dad, and be grateful that I had such a great guy for a father. And also be grateful that he was around until his 92nd year, and even though he had eyesight and hearing issues, he was otherwise very healthy. And he was an intelligent, kind, loving person, right up until he left us.