In Memoriam

In a country as small as the one I'm from, everyone can make a difference, if they want to. Every single person can make an impact. But even by those standards there are few people who rival the impact my father has had on individual people and the country as a whole. The breadth and depth of his interests, knowledge, expertise, and the intensity of his dedication to what he believed in: that ultimately his country could and would become great, were responsible for his legacy.

He had very definite ideas about exactly what it would take to move the country up from its ranking as a third world country. Every last one of those ideas was thoroughly researched, and approached from every angle possible. All potential outcomes and snags foreseen. It was like a giant chess game, where winning was the only possible outcome. All roads led to a better future for the country.

In the next few days, the university will have a colloquium commemorating him. A friend and colleague of my father wrote a short paper about some of the ideas on the country's development my father discussed with him in the past. Three groups of professionals and students will each discuss a different aspect of the paper. It's a wonderful way to commemorate the man and his multi-faceted visions that promised to revolutionize the country's development, economy, health care and education systems.

Today is the first anniversary of his passing, and it is with great sadness that I remember him, listen to the music he loved, and think about him. I remember the loving, caring father he was. More than anything though, it is with enormous pride that I remember the man that he was, and that he still is, as he lives on in the minds and hearts of so many people. No matter how much he had already done, he still wanted to do so much more. I am sad that he was denied the opportunity to do more. I am happy and proud to look back and see what he did accomplish, even if his efforts weren't always appreciated. The void he left behind is too big for anyone to fill.

It is not hard to appreciate why the hauntingly beautiful song "Spanish Harlem" by Rebecca Pidgeon accompanying this post was one of my father's favorites. The last time I visited my parents, the last time I saw my father, he listened to this song almost continuously. Day in and day out Rebecca Pidgeon's voice could be heard a block away. The song is used in this post with permission from Firefly Media. I am grateful for their cooperation.