A little more than a month ago, on March 13th, my Dad passed away. He died in his own home at 97 years of age. My brother Larry had promised him no hospital or well-meaning but unfamiliar "Home" when it was time: Larry kept his promise. Dad had a very long life full of family, friends, accomplishments, and adventures. We will scatter his ashes at sea this Summer, in the same part of the Pacific we visited for Mom 32 years ago. Time will make Dad's absence less immediately painful but we will carry him in our hearts forever, in that special spot reserved for family, both biological and chosen.
There is a hollow spot in my heart where Dad stood. It is not possible to fill it. It simply is.
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