| Those of us who write for  Duckworks know our editor Mike John.  He's a wonderfully capable  captain of technology.  Recently his father died, peacefully, after a  long life.  Mike took a sailing vacation with his family in  Australia, and I'm sure it was a memorable time.  As we all know, our time  is enclosed on this planet.  Every day we see is a day closer to our  final sleep.  If you are a Christian, you know we are all appointed  once to die and then the judgment.  Our flesh is a carcass in the  ground, our spirit is in heaven.  So we have only so many sunrises to  prepare to meet God.  If you are not  religious, you know that life is fulfillment.  Some men have wars to  fight, shortening their life or returning with dramatic memories.   Some of us are farmers, with the daily reaping of crops as our  accomplishment.  Whatever the case, to know what will satisfy our  soul is the happiness we can have.  If God is eternal like  the sea, then we have this present moment.  We are existential.  We  feel the wind in a way the angels don't.  We feel it as like a soft  girl's cheek, or like the torrent of arguing or a tidal wave of  force, or a still small whisper.  We have the inside of eternity in  every moment.  The man is fortunate who  knows this, religious or not.  He can live inside each moment because  that is what is human.  It is also humane, coming to realize what is  not always seen.  And each of us carries  the past.  I am very much like my grandfather, so I became a private  mentor to my Dad in his last years.  He would remember his father  when he saw me.  And I see my Dad in my youngest daughter April.  The ancient Greeks  thought when the soul dies it goes into the River Lethe, the river of  forgetfulness.  But Mike will not forget his father.  Life can be a  circular bay, coming around to where it began.  The old man sees the  sea as the boy did, he once was.  So the old man builds a model ship,  a schooner to glide the South Pacific looking for an island girl.  And so we might wish  Mike's Dad had the life he desired.  I hope so.  I will raise a glass  to Mike's Dad.  Might even spill some. Paul Austin |