memories of Langley Punnett by Betty Jane

As it’s father’s day, I was thinking about my father – Langley… granddad … and thought I would share this story about his journey onwards from our world. 
First, we all adored him. By we, I mean everyone I know. That may be an exaggeration, but I can speak for me and my two children Amanda and Justin. 
We knew Dad was dying, it was only a question of when. He had lung cancer and an inoperable brain tumour. I had been to see him in St. Vincent and said my goodbyes. The kids had said goodbye when he left Canada and returned to Bequia. 
While I was with him at the last, he would send me to the window to see if the Japanese monk had come for him. Where this came from, I do not know, but I have been told apparently there is a Japanese tradition that the ‘good ones’ go on as ‘gardeners’ to help others who need help. We all believe that he is out there as a gardener. 
My Dean at the University of Windsor had insisted that I go to a workshop that I did not want to be at. About ½ hour into the workshop, someone came to say there was an urgent call for me. It was my sister Roz to say Dad had died, and I had my excuse to leave the workshop – thanks Dad! 
I went home and asked my step son Dave to go and collect Amanda and Justin from school. While he got them, I went out in the garden and picked four roses, three were red and one was white. Amanda, Justin and I decided that the white rose was Dad/Granddad and the red roses represented the three of us, so we would be together for the next few days. Indeed we were, but then the red roses faded, while the white one lived on for many, many days, way longer than any normal rose. We knew he was telling us that he was still with us and always would be. 
So, happy father’s day Dad, granddad.