What is lost?

Each night we sit in a circle with the warm air of the tropics whirling around our little group. We read the letters and stories your have written in the cabin or salon of the boat. It is good to feel your spirit. To be with family lovingly hearing what others remember. To me it is sort of like a disappearing act. It is love that brings me sadness. Knowing his hand will no longer touch mine, or that his eye's will no longer twinkle with excitement as we run through the woods, over mountain ridges, down dirt roads in foreign countries, or contemplate the essence of life. I think he helped a lot of us do more than we had dreamed. His kind compassionate enthusiastic support will be miss. Over flowing with energy.
Is it strength, is it illusion or reality? I look around knowing my dad is still here, living in my heart and actions, living in others and their dreams. I see what life I believed he had left to live, as potential. Now that potential energy has been given to us as a gift. A gift to re-evaluate how we spend our time, who we want to be, what we want to value, and the potential energy to make the changes we desire. To make these changes is not a finite moment of change, but a continuous evolution refining our broad ideals into reality. To do an adequate job takes strength, perseverance, and awareness. These were all attributes that Dan embodied. What ever he directed his focus on became his passion.
How often do we see some one for their true beauty? How often do we over look our biases, our own emotional baggage to see the radiance of the person before us? In the letters you write we can feel each of you doing this, letting your heart love to it's potential. With love and gratitude Nancy, Jess, Brian, Daniel, Renee, and Ale