When I think about death I think about answers. Answers that we dont have and more importantly questions that we dont bare to ask ourselves nearly as much. Questions about ourselves or family or friends our life and the trueness of it all. The essence of living and whats really important. When I think about my father Barrys death I breathe. I breathe in and I breathe slow with a slight sense of relief and hope. Hope is what carried over my father this last year. Hope is what shined brighter and brighter as he fell more and more weak. what some would call darkness. But all I saw was light and hope. Hope that no matter what LOVE is the answer to life for sure. The capability a human has to love one another so fully and in an out of body unexplainable way. Hope that no matter where he goes from here he will be undeniably free to soar high like he always did for us as children and for his friends and family. Most importantly for his grandchildren. When he was with them he shined so bright no matter the darkness around him. I had forgotten my father for some time like many of us do when your having too much fun. Like many of us do when your wrapped up in everyday life. BUT i found him again in my children. I found him as the man that no other could compare too. One with a smile and a story like no other. One with concern for others and compassion. A simple hello and smile to a person passin by. One with good manners never underestimate a good please and thank you. One that had a true understanding and appreciation for the English language and enjoyed correcting your mishaps. One that worked hard with his hands and wasnt afraid to get dirty. One that wanted to be the best and wanted to win. One that woke up with the birds and appreciated the finer things in life like a good walk along the water or a fresh sunburn. The value of a good day. Lastly I would like to say that although the painful reality is that we will never hear his voice again or see his gray hair or that huggable smile. He is not lost. He is found. And maybe for the first time he is truly found. He is found in Hoboken in all of the streets of Hoboken and in all of the cracks and tracks at the station. he is found in all the places that have come and gone. He is till there. He is found by the river, at all of the piers, the ones that have floated into the river and the ones that stay grounded. He is found in the smell of the water even when it gets too filthy for some to understand. He is found in the sunset at night and the early delight rise of it in the morning. He is found in all the fisherman that we shall ever pass and in all the sounds of the seagulls and boats that we hear in the distance. He is found in my brother and all of my cousins. He is found in a good cast and the patience of waiting for a great catch. He is found in ourselves. For as long as the sun shines for as long as the tide comes in and out he will be shinning bright within.
Posted on: Wed, 26 Nov 2014 20:39:00 +0000
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