Would Like To Share
#1
01-14-2017, 12:48 AM
Would Like To Share
This is Rick Fried. I lost him March 3 2016. He was my Adopted Dad, Mentor, Best Friend, Business Partner, Saved My Life, A Vet, Biker, Lover And Fighter. A man I miss daily. A man that liked his Harley and loved his dog. A good beer or whiskey and a fat joint. A man my children called uncle. A bike we never stopped making better. His money not mine.
I miss him bad.
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01-14-2017, 06:11 AM
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01-14-2017, 06:54 AM
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#8
01-14-2017, 07:51 AM
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#10
01-14-2017, 12:51 PM
Tourer
Hey man I hate to hear you lost someone who meant so much to you. I can certainly relate. Each time I lose someone who lived large and who meant a lot to me I think of this poem by Henry Van Dyke. It was found in the pocket of a dead soldier (David Marcus)
Your 'brother' is still 'sailing' somewhere . . without a doubt in your memories.
Gone From My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying...
by Henry Van Dyke
Your 'brother' is still 'sailing' somewhere . . without a doubt in your memories.
Gone From My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying...
by Henry Van Dyke
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mctraveler (01-14-2017)