Thursday, February 5, 2009

Eight



is the number of years that have past since that February 5th day my family and I said goodbye to our father, Bruce Barr May, Sr.

A God fearing, imperfect, hardworking, could-kick-your-ass, family man who we are proud to have called Father.

After his death our Mom found this poem that he had cut out of a newspaper, tucked away inside his wallet...

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!

I think that says it all.

in my eyes he was ten feet tall

6 comments:

... Paige said...

Mary Elizabeth Fry--

lovely, touching and sad

remember the goodness and love you have for him still

Susan's Snippets said...

Paige...

Yes that is Mary Elizabeth Fry....makes me cry EVERY time I read it.

Thanks for the kinds words.

he flies now with the birds

Cindiloo said...

simply beauttiful

Liz said...

Beautiful post, sounds like he was a marvelous man. I'm sorry you're sad.

Diane Vogel Ferri said...

How beautiful to write that about your dad 8 years later. I too am a lucky daughter.

Anonymous said...

Hey Sus - Remember him well. I know how much you loved him. I know the feeling since I miss my Mom alot also. Something will happen at work or home and I will think - Mom will get a kick out of that ---- then I remember!!! Hope all is well in the Moody gang. Love ya, BOGOTB