Last week when Finn was on his way to the potty I heard him call out, "It's ok, Dadoo, it's ok!"
This usually means he's just done something that requires substantial clean up.
In this case, not quite making it to the potty.
His inflections for a moment reminded me of Greg, Erin's Dad who passed away three weeks ago from pancreatic cancer.
Sensing my sadness, but attributing it to his little accident, Finn kept repeating as I was wiping the floor, "It's ok. It's not too bad, Dadoo. See? It's OK."
Greg's great legacy, that I hope has genetically passed to Finn, was the unwavering ability to look first to the positive in whatever you're facing.
"He was always a rock," Erin said, when she or her sisters had a crisis. Calm and reassuring with a certainty that a solution was forthcoming.
"Alright, honey. It's ok, it's OK. Here's what we can do..."
His emotions were usually fairly restrained with the exception of his effusive pride for his three daughters.
He held a bachelors degree in Philosophy so late night conversations could get very deep. In those moments when his guard receded I witnessed a man passionate about his ideals. Unafraid of acknowledging regrets, but placing his gaze firmly ahead.
In the days following his death, Erin and her sisters sorted through old photos and letters attempting to piece together his early life.
Greg left specific instructions that there not be a traditional funeral service. Instead there was a gathering of his friends and family at his favorite Irish pub.
There were words and stories shared. Around the room were photo collages, jerseys, hats and a few of the many beautiful, potted flowers that were central to his daily life.
His records played on an old fashioned turn table.
Without a doubt, he was there.
Since our arrival back home Erin has continued going through her Dad's photos and reading correspondence from his college days.
Recently we were watching "The Roosevelts" on PBS. It occurred to me that we all have the makings of a Ken Burns film.
Erin will continue unraveling the mini series of her Dad's life, replete with old letters, essays and scratchy photos.
She'll always have her favorite episodes. I have some too.
It's the legacy of a life well lived.
We leave you with this inscription found on the sundial at The University of Virginia. It was included in an introduction of an essay Greg wrote as a young man. He had circled it.
For Katrina's Sun-Dial
Henry Van Dyke
Time is
Too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice.
But for those who love, time is Eternity;
Hours fly,
Flowers die,
New days,
New ways
Pass by.
Love stays.