Well, Tiger, sadly we have something in common. As I read about your father's passing yesterday, the reminder of my own father's death from prostate cancer came roaring back. It's funny how after two years it can be so fresh in one's mind. And for Tiger, I know in some ways the mixture of pain and relief that he's now feeling. You relieved that your father is no longer suffering but there's a hole in you that will never be filled. That's the bottom line. And there's nothing that will change this. Not your spouse, not your kids.
You have the memories though. And from what I read, it sounds like your father, like mine, was a really good man. A man who loved you more than anything and helped make you what you are today. And hey, your golf game is way better than mine. Of course, my Dad had no golf game but I did get to play with him at least once. For that I am very thankful.
The sun is rising here on what for you, Tiger, is a whole new day and a life far different from the one you had yesterday. And I can only offer you the words that I found some solace in, from Khalil Gibran:
On Death
Then Almitra spoke, saying, “We would ask now of Death.”Posted by robdesign at May 4, 2006 06:50 AM | TrackBack
And he said:
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.