Thursday, March 3, 2011

Thanks

Sorry that blogging has been light (although the Missus has sure picked up the slack).  Thank you to everyone who's left a comment or sent an email.  This isn't an easy time, but I'm overwhelmed by your kindness.
When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thank you all for shining.

11 comments:

libertyman said...

Good thoughts en route.

JD said...

Sorry to hear the news, sending good thoughts your way. I am slow on the uptake so I will say sorry to hear about your dad. All I can say is been there, gone through that, hang in there.
Been 5 years since my dad passed and I still miss him, but when it gets to me I just remind myself he must have been a great dad for me to still miss him so. . . I was one of the lucky ones. . . Sounds like you were too

Joshkie said...

Oh, that's why the quality of the writing improved.
;-)

On a more serious note the Miss needs her own blog or a regular post here. If she has one already need like as I would follow it. I might even respect her enough to not be annoying there. Oh, who am I kidding I don't think I can not be annoying.
Oh well give me the link or not at your own risk.

Thoughts still with you,
Josh Out.

gator said...

Sorry to hear about your Dad.

George in AZ said...

My thoughts and prayers are with you.

BobG said...

The absence is understandable; I've been there.

Rev. Paul said...

Our thoughts are still with you & your family.

Jennifer said...

No problem. More prayers for you and yours.

Anonymous said...

My thoughts and condolences are with you. I lost Dad in 2005, and not a day goes by that I don't still miss him.

Focusing on the good times we spent together in the past helped me the most, but everyone has to walk the path of healing their own way.

Another thing that helped me and my son was shooting Dad's/Grandpa's old Winchester Model 12 at the sporting clay range on his birthday every year.

Ditto for the wife and me shooting Dad's old S&W Pre-Hand-ejector revolver every few months.

Old guns take on a life of their own, acquiring an ability to evoke sweet memories of their former owners among family members who receive bequests.

G
III

Graybeard said...

Borepatch - this is a passage we all traverse. Well, most of us. I lost my dad in 1982. My mom, much to my surprise, is still hanging on, although frail and progressively losing hearing. If there was ever anyone I wouldn't think would make it almost 30 years after losing her husband, it's mom.

I have the only gun dad owned during my childhood, a small .25 auto (pocket pistol). With luck, I will pass it on to my son in 30 years.

Anonymous said...

My mother passed in 2004, and my father in 2007. You have my deepest sympathies and condolences.