It was my father’s wish that there be no funeral service when he passed away. We are honoring that wish by having a small private ceremony with his wife, his kids, and his grandchildren. Still, I wanted to share some thoughts about my dad as we celebrate his remarkable life. Some will say my father has died . Others will say he has been lost . Maybe it is the English teacher in me that rejects both of those terms. Neither one is accurate. Died is just too permanent: to have stopped living . My grandfather’s life ended when I was seventeen, and I reached out to him just the other day. Out for a run, asking for his firefighter strength to bear me up, I swear I felt him. I believe he was right there with me as I tried to navigate the challenges of the past week, as I tried to help his daughter weather the conclusion of a fifty year long love story. I have had conversations with him all throughout the three decades since that day. In my life he has remained very much alive. Lost