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While cleaning up/out some old computer files today, I came across this poem that I wrote back in 1984. I thought y'all might like to read it.
A Son's Farewell 12/6/84
Your hard and scarred, yet gentle hands
Lie still upon the sheet,
The efforts of your stricken heart
Grow weaker, beat by beat,
Your body, limp and helpless now,
Is draped in sterile green,
Your final breath of mortal life
Provided by machine.
Your wife of over forty years,
Your siblings, one by one,
The daughter that you bragged about
And I, your only son,
Have gathered close about you, Dad,
To say our last good-byes,
And silently we watch you go
With proud but tearful eyes.
The arms that used to carry me, The voice that oft admonished me, The laughter that you shared with me Are still forevermore.
Your eyes are dull and vacant now
When once they shone with life,
Your labors in this World are through,
As are your pain and strife,
The load that you were carrying
Is on my shoulders now,
But I will bear it willingly,
For you have shown me how.
Through years of patient tutoring
You were my constant guide,
You taught responsibility
And dignity, and pride,
So Dad, you take your well-earned rest
And see how well you've done,
All the things you taught to me
I'm teaching to my son.
The courage that you gave to me, The things you taught so patiently, The love you gave so willingly, Will live forevermore.
In memorium: Vasser Dale Rowe, 2/22/18 - 5/17/84
It is evident Vasser did a great job raising his children...and a man of obviously fine character...instilled in his son the same qualities he possessed.
That was very beautiful, and very moving, Nighteyes.
today a friend lost his fight against brain cancer..............he and I shared many a smoke and many an evening in discourse, discussion, and distilled spirits...........
We are all children of the mother.................
When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.... Chief Tecumseh
When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.... Chief Tecumseh
Aiokpanchi! I am rapidly approaching the age at which my father died and, since I have his genes, I have been thinking on this. When my time comes, I am ready.
Remembering my own pain and grief when my father died, and those of my mother and sister, my concern is leaving my wife and family to deal with their pain and suffering. I would prevent this if I could, but I do not know how.
Well, that's enough maudlin meanderings. Let's get back to the real world.
Aiokpanchi! I am rapidly approaching the age at which my father died and, since I have his genes, I have been thinking on this. When my time comes, I am ready.
Remembering my own pain and grief when my father died, and those of my mother and sister, my concern is leaving my wife and family to deal with their pain and suffering. I would prevent this if I could, but I do not know how.
Well, that's enough maudlin meanderings. Let's get back to the real world.
I have asked my family that when my time comes not to feel sorrow for me , I am not afraid of death and when it is my time I will welcome it, but not too soon. I have been very fortunate to have lived as long as I have because usually by this age most of the male members in my family have passed on. A few months back I was fortunate enough to have a procedure done that corrected an unknown birth defect which will extend my life journey, I think the Creator is keeping me here for a reason, what for I don't know yet but I'll make the best of it. I believe in celebrating life and that is what I have asked my family to do at my passing.
I have asked my family that when my time comes not to feel sorrow for me , I am not afraid of death and when it is my time I will welcome it, but not too soon. I have been very fortunate to have lived as long as I have because usually by this age most of the male members in my family have passed on. A few months back I was fortunate enough to have a procedure done that corrected an unknown birth defect which will extend my life journey, I think the Creator is keeping me here for a reason, what for I don't know yet but I'll make the best of it. I believe in celebrating life and that is what I have asked my family to do at my passing.
Here is something that has been in my final instructions for the last 15 years or so. I only wish I could remember its source (I think its Choctaw): "Sing no sad songs for me. Instead, tell others how I made you smile, how you enjoyed my company and the little things I may have done along the way to be of help to you and yours."
Men face the world. Women keep the traditions. This is the way of a warrior people. Warriors, even the best of them, die. It is up to the women to keep the traditions so the young men learn from their fathers and grandfathers how to be warriors. This is why the Tsa La Ghi, like many warrior societies are matriarchal.
I find it worthwhile that the greatest fear we have as men is the grief that we leave our women. Jack was a strong, man. CWOII in Viet Nam, he faced what all warriors face....their own death....he went unafraid, but feared only what he left behind. This evening I visited, by phone, his widow......a woman who, when this is past, will come out stronger and more resilient than before. She still has to break the news to his father. Her trials are just beginning. I tried to make her understand that his father was also a man of strength and would understand and rejoice, while grieving, his son's passing.
For those of you who do not know the creator or how the creation works, it is not a time of sorrow for the one who passes. I look forward to that day. It is a time of sorrow for those who are left behind. Someone is not next to you when you wake up, there is no one to talk to when you decide how to pay bills, or buy a car, or decide where you go for a holiday. It is a time of being alone. and we are social animals. we need others around us.....
It is good when a warrior passes over. It is good when a woman grieves. But it is good, after the celebration and grieving, to move on.
I look forward to the day I cross over. I ask that it not be soon, although that would be ok, because I have grandchildren to get to know. But if I cross over too soon, I guess I will become a legend/myth for them, and I can "live" with that............
sorry about the wanderings, I turn 62 in a couple of weeks, I have been pall bearer in way too many funerals, and I feel like my own existence is in jeopardy. My mortality is confronting me. Losing Jack was just a reminder of my own mortality. I hope to face my final days with his strength, courage, and grace.
I can empathize with how you feel. I'm 64 and lost my younger brother (he was 57) in March 2010. I came home late that night and had a message on my answering machine from the Denton County Medical Examiner (40 miles away) telling me that my brother had been found dead in his duplex. I had to tell my mother about it the next day (she is 89). That was the most terrible thing I have ever had to do.
I only believe in the Big Bang as a 'creator', but I agree completely concerning sorrow. My brother was and is beyond all sorrow. I can't say that my mother and I am, but we are moving on as best we can, as there is nothing else one can do.
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