I recall mentioning before initially not understanding why Feast Days were designated upon the death of a person, as opposed to their birth.  It was explained to me that it was celebrated then because that was the day they went home to be with the Lord.  Grief is such a morphing beast.  I believe almost everyone has dealt with loss in their lives; some far more than others.  On this day in 1998 part of me died forever.  It was the day I lost my father.  My mother and I were in complete shock and could not believe such a big, strong, vital man was gone at just 66 from a heart attack in his sleep.  I made sure my father had a full military burial, as was his due, after having served eight years in Korea as a sharpshooter in the United States Army.  I was told at his funeral that he never lost a man on night patrol.  A proud American Indian veteran, he always wore a flag pin on his lapel way before it was fashionable to do so.  I did not cry today; I just felt numb.  I also did not mention it to my husband or daughter, as there was no use in making them sad as well.  We rarely rent movies but tonight my daughter came across a movie she really wanted to see called “Kubo and the Two Strings.”  There would have been a time in my life when I would have found it incredibly sad.  My little one has already known the death of my mother and it pains me she experienced her loss at such a tender age.  But as she and I watched the movie together I realized the message was one of happiness.  I could not help but think how very fitting it was watching it on this day of all days.  We always carry our loved ones with us wherever we go and most of us are blessed to have memories of them.  And so, instead of mourning, we celebrate their lives and the precious time we had with them.  The American civil rights activist Rosa Parks said, “Memories of our lives, of our works and our deeds will continue in others.”  I love knowing that all my father instilled in me, which was instilled in him by his grandmother, is now being instilled in my daughter.  The memories, works, and deeds live on.  Chi hullo li na billia chih.  I dedicate this to my daddy.