Ira

Today marks the day Terry's dad passed away, it was 3 years ago and Ira lived well into his 90's.
He never lost hope and that is the thing I will always remember about him, his kind gentle spirit that never gave up and never lost hope. Rest well Pappy, we will miss you forever.

hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me. Emily Dickinson 1861