He Is Around...

My dad was gone when I was a little girl, 38 years ago on this date. The culprit was heart attack, according to some hearsay that was never confirmed by any doctors that we knew of. He fell and died, said his friend that went with him to another city. My mum was merely 45 years old housewife with nine kids, one more than Kate Gosselin has. She also had no source of income. Life was tough and harsh for her, especially in the early years....

I knew very little about my dad. I remember almost nothing other than little stuff told by my mother and my siblings. In fact I don't really trust the memory that I have of him. I have his pictures when we traveled during the holidays. I have some family pictures with him taken about two weeks prior to his departure. That's very much it.

This day, I think of him much more and put down here this poem by Mary Frye about life after death. Very beautiful. And I love to envision of my dad this way...

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die