my favorite picture of my dad

this was taken during my very brief (13 month) tenure as an only child. ;-) look at the expression on his face: who are you, where did you come from, and why do i love you so much?

my dad passed away peacefully last week in his 80th year. he had struggled hard and valiantly against parkinson's disease for at least 25 years. i feel so relieved for him; right now the relief far outweighs my sadness, as it was difficult for me and my brothers and sisters for a long time to watch while he fought his battle with mortality.

will you allow me to share a poem? my dad loved poetry -- i'm too prosaic to be a good poetry aficionado, but i do love john donne.

Death be not Proud

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

John Donne, Holy Sonnets, 1633