Dana’s mom, Diana, is my friend.
It was during her loving care of her father Jack, Dana’s grandpa, here on the Alameda Beach of Southshore, that I met Dana.
I was visiting Jack and Diana as Jack was preparing to take his leave. Dana was on his way to see him. As I was preparing to say goodnight, Dana arrived and his grandpa lit up! Jack said something like “it’s about time you got here”, and Dana, who had entered the bedroom with a smile and the feeling that he was just there for a visit as usual, went to his grandpa and they hugged with such love and genuine affection that it brought me to tears. Happy tears, as my dad used to say.
I did not know Dana long, but what I saw that evening along with all I am privileged to read in these remembrances, speak of such a loving soul that I can’t help but weep at his passing.
For the sake of love, his family, and life itself, I will endeavor to live as he lived instead of weeping.
Fly high Dana.
