My father died November 7, 2004 at 1:30 pm. I was sitting facing him, looking directly at him when he drew his last breath. It was the first time I ever saw someone die. He was there, then he wasn't. I've waited to write about it because it has been a time of great sadness, and I thought maybe a little time would buffer that to make this easier. It hasn't. I am getting tears in my eyes even now as I think back about that day. I have been exploring Buddhism the last few years, largely because I knew this day was coming, and I hoped to have some answers prepared as a salve. I can't say I got the answers, but the concepts strike a chord I appreciate.