The wind is fresh, the moon bright.Let us spend the evening dancing
as a farewell to old age.
- Ryokan (1758-1831)
I am typing this from West Newton, Massachusetts, having spent the day today in Rangeley Lakes, Maine at my father's memorial service. My father was a man who, if not raged, at least rebelled against the fading of the light, and who, last February, finally bid farewell to old age.
Growing up, I certainly had my differences with my father, but sitting in the church with his ashes before us in a box, my mother, brother and nephew at my side, surrounded by those who also knew and loved him, I felt all of those petty differences drop away, and all that remained was a pure and honest respect and affection for the man.
This post is dedicated to Bill Hart, and to all the kind people of Rangeley Lakes who shared in today's service, and to all those out there who were not able to attend.
2 comments:
We have the sweet sounding phrase "may the memory of the righteous be a blessing" and we say it as a matter of routine on such occasions. It seems a conditional invocation and it is phrased in a very passive way. All real people and all the relations they have with other people are mixed blessings. What constitutes righteous is rarely a matter of exact agreement.
Can that phrase take the form of action? Is everyone righteous?
As you have described your leave-taking, the answers are yes and yes.
I extend my belated sympathies to all who gained life and instruction by Bill's living and his example.
Maine is lovely, lush, and full of rigorous, strong willed people. Sounds like he was one.
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