It is hard…
I have always believed, sad as it may sound, that death is the actual beginning of our lives. This life, this short existence we all have is not really life, but a brief interlude of our souls which lasts forever after we pass on… My Dad was a true philosopher, a Union man who fought all his life against the government who tried but never fully succeeded to destroy his family, despite the hardships, lies and critical evaluations made by others, he persevered and won in the end.
He had a framed poem by Kipling and another parable, carefully positioned on each side of the door to his entrance foyer, so no one passing would be able to say they did not see or read it which are pictured below.
These are the words he lived by and remain with me still.
All that he taught me… lives on in me.