I glanced at this old picture of my dad with his friend Joe today. From the moment after that picture was taken, they went on with their lives and eventually into “the way of all the earth.” He’s gone, but his memory lives on in me. Like that Dan Fogelberg song about his dad:
The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument
And his song is in my soul-
You can live on through your influence on others. My parents’ blood runs through my veins. Their love for me made me a better person, and I passed that influence on to others, and they, in turn, will pass it on to another generation. Once I am gone, there will be no one to talk about my parents, and any memory of their existence will fade, but their actions will go on through eternity.
