My father was a thinker, a mechanical engineer who was also a poet and lover of music. Daddy possessed an everyman renaissance mentality. He saw the present and the future all at once. The energy of his mind made him incredibly interesting, but also uncomfortable. Even at the age of thirty three he was still attempting to find his place in the world, particularly with his work. He was searching for something meaningful, but never quite found the fit that would use his many talents and quench his thirst for knowledge. 

Daddy dreamed of a future that would one day come, but not in time for him to witness it. He had books that described traveling to the moon in a time when such things seemed to be only science fiction. He spoke of the worldwide need for sources of clean potable water and methods of harvesting and desalinating the oceans. Like his mother, he felt a kinship with nature and was never happier than when he was enjoying the flora and fauna around him. I suppose that our journey with him in the year before his death represented his quest to find work that might somehow bring more than monetary profits to humankind. I suspect that his quest had not yet been successful, but in retrospect I can see that if he had lived just a bit longer he might have actually begun to see the fruition of many of his ideas. 

My brother Micheal would fulfill Daddy’s legacy in the exploration of space. The little boy who cradled our father’s books and gazed at the illustrations even as a toddler would eventually develop navigation software for journeying to the International Space Station. Daddy’s descendants would share his curiosity and his passion for improving and protecting our planet. It is as though he showed us how to live in the brief time that he had. His influence continues to loom large in each of us who are linked to him on the family tree. 

Our beautiful blue planet is in trouble and far too many of us are ignoring the signs. We seem to think that the problems facing the people of the earth are simply par for the course, a cyclical pattern that will soon enough right itself. We point to droughts of the past to explain receding rivers and lakes. We plug our ears when someone sounds an alarm, telling us that our central problems have nothing to do with culture wars, and everything to do with our mistreatment of the natural resources that we too often take for granted. If the problems are not our own, we too often tend to shrug away our personal responsibilities to help. We forge ahead without making the sacrifices that we must begin to make if everyone is to survive. 

I think of my grandmother, a tiny illiterate woman who had more sensibility in guarding the earth than any person I have ever known. Her lack of schooling was a source of sorrow and even shame for her, and yet she had developed more common sense than most people possess. She had an understanding of how to use every resource in a way that enriched the environment. She did not waste or destroy. Her relationship with the natural world was not as a dominant human, but as a caretaker and sharer of the gifts that we have all too often taken for granted and destroyed.  

My father was not a religious man but he was a philosopher who believed in something bigger than ourselves. He often posited questions about why we are here on this earth and what our roles should be. He loved to explore through travel and books and deep conversations. He saw the possibilities of the future where others were mired in the present. He deeply believed that progress was not about things or bigger houses or an accumulation of wealth, but rather forging new frontiers that would help us all to live comfortably in concert with all of the creatures and wonders of the earth. 

Daddy often stressed our responsibilities to use the knowledge, skills and gifts that we had to advance learning and understanding everywhere. His library of books included the ideas of the great thinkers of history. He believed that we each have a purpose that we are bound to fulfill, not for selfish reasons, but for the good of all mankind. I heard him speak of such things over dinner, while we viewed the wonders of our country, on days when he read to us from the newspaper or one of his many volumes. Shortly before he died he chastised me for only coasting through life. He urged me to fully develop myself and my gifts. He advised me to find my passion and share it with my fellow humans. Most of all, he told me of my duty to protect the earth. 

I often sat next to my father while he was fishing. Those were the moments when he became the most philosophical about life. He would quietly point to the water, the birds, the sky and revel in their beauty. As he pulled a fish out of the water he would remind me of our stewardship. He warned that we have the power to both destroy and cultivate the planet. He asked that I do my best to take care of what we have. 

In this summer of heat, dry rivers, fires and extremes of weather I am reminded of my father’s words. I think of his books and those of the maternal grandfather whom I never met. They were men who understood our profound influence on the land and on each other. While we quibble over things that should not matter, we are slowly and surely destroying what is most important for our survival. We have important work to do if we are to save our planet. Each and every one of us matters. We can no longer deny what is happening nor can we shirk our duties to repair the damage we have already done. This I know because my father told me it would be so. It is his message from the beyond. I will do my best to do my part and encourage others to do theirs.