This is just a repost of a note in remembrance of my Dad. He passed away 10 years ago today at the age of 77. I can still vividly recall his almost-nightly phone calls. We’d chat about all kinds of things; things like family life, health, religion, and sports. It’s hard to believe it’s been 10 years already.
Rest in peace, Dad. I miss you, yet I know you’re spirit is still near…
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awake in the morning hush
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
And the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die
– A poem read at Dad’s funeral
My Dad and I with the Stanley Cup at Rendez-Vous ’87 in Quebec City
