It's a little strange to think that my dad passed away four years ago today. I don't like remembering the date of someone's death; rather, I like to remember them on their birthday as it seems a happier memory. One of the tiny burdens of my tendencies towards OCD, I guess, is that rarely can I forget the dates about anything.
When Alan Alda guest starred on the TV Show "ER," his dying character recited the following poem. I have no idea if my dad ever read it, heard of it, or would've liked it. But I like it, and it reminds me of him. I'm sorry to say I don't know if he's at peace wherever he may be - but I hope he is.
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water,
and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
~Wendell Berry
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