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Blustery wind and an Irish Prayer

Saturday, August 29, 2009

A raw and blustery wind is heading for the Maine coast. The remnants of a hurricane are ready to hit the shores. Some would say it's not a fitting day for much. But my Dad-in-Law would appreciate the iron of such wild weather today, of all days. Today we're burying him... my Dad-in-Law. Notice you won't hear me call him "Father"-in-Law because the man was much more of a Dad to me than the remote austere image taht such a formal name as "father" conjures. He was an imposing man with his stout Scotman's build, but he was graced with a soft voice that could grow and thunder and resonate until it was clear that all in the house could hear him. But he usually chose a much quieter form of communication. He was a gentle soul, who from my first meeting became a friend to me. I, along with my family, will miss him immeasurably.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
I am not there... I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow...
I am the diamond glints on snow...
I am the sunlight on ripened grain...
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you waken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of gentle birds in circling flight...
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry -
I am not there... I did not die...

We'll Know When We Get There: Sincerely, John Hughes

Friday, August 07, 2009

If you haven't read this... please do so. There can be no better tribute to a man who had such an amazing effect on our lives...
We'll Know When We Get There: Sincerely, John Hughes
I was Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles... minus getting the cute guy with the car. I was the angst ridden, thoroughly strange (I intended it be more an individualistic aura), and completely awkward teenager. In the Breakfast Club I was more of Ally Sheedy's character, the loner looking at life from the outside and completely wishing that I could be "one of them" if only for a short while. I wanted to be daring and outrageous like Ferris Beuller and funny like Ducky. More than anything... I wanted someone who could look into my life and make it something more. I was a teenager living in the John Hughes era. And somehow, he made it okay.
I still want to drive a pink Opal. But now, looking back, I find that if Mr. Hughes hadn't offered me the passport to be just a little bit off center I'm not sure I would be the person that I am today. I dare to be different. I challenge my kids to be individuals in their own right and to stand up for what they want... and yes, sometimes when we go to Wal Mart the family still calls it Wally World. Just because.
So, I join the world in mourning a great man. And from this former angst-ridden, thoroughly strange, awkward teen... I thank you for your gift.
Midnight, strange mystic hour, when the vail between the frail present and eternal future grows thin.
~ Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe

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