Walter Bruce Davis was born in 1934 and lived until 2009,when he passed from this world on February 15,just two days short of three years from the accident that took away his wife and lifelong companion.
I have no idea what those three years were like for my father.I hope he was cared for in a dignified and decent way but,in my more cynical moments I greatly fear that he may not have been.He was in the care of my youngest sister,who thus far has refused to disclose details of the care she says she provided.I only say that it was wrong not to allow oversight.In and of itself,that was wrong and my father deserved better.As to any other wrong doing,I will not give voice to my fears,as I don't know what those years were like.I only know that,for certain that God sees and knows.
On the day my sister called to tell me of my fathers passing,I was sitting in a chair and trying to learn a chord progression for a new song on the guitar.It was I though an extraordinarily beautiful song about a metaphorical bird.And it spoke to my fathers life.The odd thing was that I was having no luck finding the proper chord progression until after my sister had called.When I was through talking to her,in a short while,I picked up my guitar again,and the chords came to me,all of them,in less than ten minutes.That was on Family Day,2009.
My father was laid to rest in the cemetery in Canterbury,New Brunswick,beside my mother and there they,and perhaps a cat,sleep together.At the funeral they sang "Church In The Wildwood" and "Peace In The Valley."And I hope he has found his peace and that he sleeps well.
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