"Slowly, gradually, he detached himself,
breathing less and less,
fainter and fainter;
then was he off and free,
like a dry leaf from the tree,
floating up and away."
- Helen Nearing
On Friday evening, I suffered a huge loss. The death of my father, George. My dad was 91 years old, and would have celebrated his 92nd birthday on May 2. Although his health was declining over the past several months, his mind was still sharp. He was such a source of knowledge about the history and people from the area where we lived, and loved to share his stories with relatives and friends. He never missed church, and was always the first one there each Sunday morning. He was proud to have served in the Army during WWII, where he fought for 4 years in the Pacific Theater. He also raised beautiful African Violets and loved to frequent his favorite diner, the Waldo Cafe, where he would visit with his friends and family on a regular basis.Everyone in the community knew my dad well, and everyone liked him and always spoke very highly of him. He had a wonderful, dry sense of humor which he could ever-so-casually interject into a conversation with a straight face.
He was surrounded by his family when he peacefully passed away. I am so grateful that I had such wonderful, loving parents. My dad loved the old singing group, "The Ink Spots," so the music playing on my blog is in his honor.
I love you, dad, and I'm really going to miss you.
