On Sunday, August 26, my dad of 84 years passed away. We were very close. He was as fine a father that one could be.
This I wrote as the closing prayer at his memorial service today:
Just as the sun arcs across the sky, the lives of others arcs across our horizon.
Some are like shooting stars. The appearance is too brief, but so spectacular that you feel blessed having seen it.
Others move so slowly, you forget that they are moving, and you start to expect them to always be there.
Their light helps us to find our way, to see through dark times. Light, warmth, energy.
As we know, the sun eventually sets. It’s out of view. It’s, in a sense, gone.
Not really gone. It is now lighting another part of our existence, a place where we don’t currently stand, a place to which we’ve not yet traveled. The light shines there, instead.
In a similar sense, by Faith we believe that loved ones merely fade from our view, their light gone from our lives, but shining on in another place, a place where we don’t currently stand, a place to which we’ve not yet traveled.
My prayer includes the joy of having lived in the light of my dad, the comfort of knowing he’s shining on just over the horizon, and a bit of a challenge that my light will shine to light the way for others.
May you carry this prayer and contemplation with you and remember it every time you recall my dad.