I cannot fully express myself in my own words. Don was about as true as they come and I am a better person for knowing him. Please give this poem to Cindy on my behalf:
I am standing on the sea shore,
A ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her
Till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says:
"She is gone."
Gone! Where?
Gone from my sight - that is all.
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me,
not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
"She is gone",
There are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:
"There she comes"
- and that is dying. An horizon and just the limit of our sight.
Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.
Bishop Brent 1891
Take comfort in knowing that Don now has all the answers that he worked so hard to get answered in life. He knows where every shipwreck and speck of gold hides and will enjoy watching the rest of us chase our tails looking for it.
Godspeed Don,
Pcolaboy