A Good Man Is Hard To Find

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

For I am not there; I did not die.

-Mary Frye

My Uncle Dan was a man who lived until the moment he died. Literally. Yesterday afternoon, he was talking to his girlfriend in his front yard. She got a phone call, and he said that he was going to get back to the yard work he was working on in the back yard. She got off of her phone call a few minutes later and went to the backyard to tell him she'd see him that evening for their date. He was on the ground. She performed mouth-to-mouth & called 911. He was pronounced dead at 2:00.

The initial medical examination points to sudden cardiac arrest, although it will take time for the full autopsy. Dan lost his wife, my aunt, Beverly Cade Carroll to ovarian cancer 11 years and 12 days before he died. In those 11 years, he mourned for her deeply and spoke of her often.

This morning, the birds were chirping and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful day, just like yesterday. He would have been out on the golf course this afternoon with his female black lab, Jett.