My dad is gone...

We had a good visit last night. He was adamant about getting up into his wheelchair and getting into the kitchen. He wanted to see the bills and make sure the pool was filled (if you knew my dad, this makes perfect sense!! In some circles, he might have been called a control freak!!) The boys got to see him up, tell him they loved him and he got to make sure everything was in order.

The only thing he did NOT get to do was see his son. However, knowing their rocky relationship, I think that was by design! Scott's plane gets into Phoenix in about 6 hours. Steve and I joked this morning that Dad would do ANYTHING to not have to see Scott! (as long as I've known my Dad, he and Scott have had a less than good relationship. Scott has made an effort of late, but it is a bit too little, way too late...)

Thank you all for your words of encouragement, kind thoughts and prayers. I'm ok - the tears just come, but I'm at peace with the fact that he's at peace. As I told the boys last night - Their Baba was in there somewhere, but what we see when we look at him is not him - its the cancer. All the wonderful things he is and was were still there, just beyond our (and his) grasp.

My dad was a sailor. I know he's enjoying the waves again, wherever he is....

Charles Allen Haine
October 12, 1921 - August 6th, 2005
A life well lived.


Edited to add the following poem, sent to me by a wonderful cyber-friend, Rox. Thank you Rox!!!

The Last Voyage
Lizzie Clark Hardy
[USMAA Memorial Service May 30, 2000, Coyote Point, San Mateo, CA]

Some time at eve when tide is low,
I shall slip my moorings and sail away.

With no response to the friendly hail
Of kindred craft in the busy bay.
In the silent hush of the twilight pale.
When the night troops down to embrace the day.
And the voices call, and in the waters flow.
Some time at even when the tide is low.
I slip my moorings and sail away.

Through the purple shadows that darkly trail
O'er the ebbing tide of the Unknown Sea.
I shall fare me away, with a dip of a sail
And a ripple of waters to tell the tale
Of a lonely voyager, sailing away
To the Mystic Isles where at anchor lay
The crafts of those who have sailed before
O'er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.

A few who have watched me sail away
Will miss my craft from the busy Bay:
Some friendly barks that were anchored near.
Some loving soul that my heart held dear.
In silent sorrow will drop a tear.
But I shall have peacefully furled my sail
In moorings sheltered from storm and gale
And greeted the friends who sailed before
O'er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.