Today, as my siblings and I will remind each other, marks another year, another year since the passing of our father over thirty years ago. Despite the span of those decades, we still miss him, and our mother as well. Time may heal some, yes, but time will never fully overcome the scars its events imprint on our lives. There are losses that, try as we might, we cannot completely assuage. Although we learn to live with them, though we may even come to develop a measure of acceptance about them, we will never totally erase them from our hearts. For always and forevermore, they are embedded in the innermost patterns of our soul.
And the universe remains, an inscrutable mystery, heading to its final denouement, its ultimate destiny. As are we. And what then? Almost inevitably, death makes us wonder: what lies on the other side?
As the Beatles's "In My Life," a song I happened to hear played today, so poignantly observes, "There are places I remember, some have gone, and some remain . . . "
Thanks, God, for my father, who he was, and who he was to me, and thanks, God, for the fact of eternal destiny.
And thank you, Dad. Thank you for everything.
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