
You left me this morning. I was with you.
As your daughter and I will carry on.
You taught me so many things:
Falling in love with the beaches—swim the waters you swam.
That the land across the bay that I awoke to every morning was not Japan.
The night you pointed with excitement to the beauty of the Milky Way.
How to spell my name, my address, phone number, and to tie my shoes
all the night before kindergarten.
You taught me to sail on the Puget Sound
and to hike mountains of the Pacific Northwest.
You told me to go for my dreams
to take a risk.
You showed me how to live spontaneously, knowing that
anything is possible
and that everything is interesting and exciting.
I will miss you deeply.
You are my hero.