Today my father died and I will miss him for as long as I live.
No words will ever be able to describe him and even if they could, now is not the time. Marking his passing is all that I can do.
He is alive forever in my heart, for his blood runs hot in my veins, pulsing with the song of life begun in 1925 and played pure and joyfully down through the years.
He's the night air now, blowing always through the memories of my life, stirring the trees with his spirit.
Tears fall gently in the Ironwoodwind.