My Uncle Paul Landis read the following at my dad's funeral. I wrote it in the back of my Bible.
"I'm standing on the seashore. A ship spreads his white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. I stand watching him until he fades on the horizon, and someone at my side says, "He is gone."
Gone where? The loss of sight is in me, not in him. Just at the moment when someone says, "He is gone," there are others who are watching him coming. Other voices take up the glad shout, "Here he comes!"
And that...is dying."
by Henry Scott Holland
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