My dad's memorial service is this afternoon... and while I can't be there physically, I will either be Skyped in or be able to listen on my son Tristan's open phone. Tristan is representing our family and will read the following at the service. Once at my dad's house after the service, Tristan will Skype me in so I can talk to my family and dad's friends. Isn't technology amazing?
I was told this story:
The crowd stood on shore, waving good-bye to the ship with the giant white sails. Sad wives and children stood long after the others departed, their eyes locked on the ever-smaller sails. Eventually, none of them could see any sign the ship had ever been there; even the ripples were long gone. A dock worker trying to clear the way said, "It's gone. You all can go home now." A wise grandmother pulled the crying mothers and children close and said, "The ship is not gone, it is merely over the horizon where we cannot see. As we lose sight of our loved ones, they begin to be seen across the ocean."
So, too, is it with my daddy. He isn't close enough for me to touch, but he isn't gone. Any person remembered lives on long after the body has disappeared. We would be so lucky to be as loved as my dad is and was. He made all of us laugh - and there is no greater gift any of us could have received.
Thank you all for being a part of my dad's life. You made it richer by your presence. He loved each of you so much!
When we play golf, watch golf or hear about golf, we can think fondly of my dad and know that when that ball is lost in the rough, it isn't gone... it's merely hidden from view.