Miss you JBD. 10 years seems like a lifetime without you. Thinking of you today and hoping you found your reading chair in the great gig in the sky. xxoop

Dad....hard to believe you would be 92 this year! I think of you so often and share with others some of the amazing things you accomplished in your lifetime. You were a force of nature and our family was lucky to call you our Dad. I'm heading out to pick up some individually wrapped chocolates...just like you like...in your honor. Hope to see you on the other side one of these days.  Thank you.....love Reen

July 1, 2023.
Happy Birthday, JBD. I've missed you for these 10 years and am delivering all the DQ Blizzards you can eat today when you would have turned 92! Also this last passage from The Dead, which I'm forever grateful you introduced to me so long ago, is for you. Love you, Dad. xxoopatty

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
James Joyce (one of your faves ;-)

missing the big guy.....so much i would love to speak with him about. thankful for all the lessons in history that he imparted to us.....comes in handy as i work as a bike tour guide in the columbia river gorge....i channel you all the time Dad. love you

Miss you, Dad. Love you.

9 years. Still missing you, Dad. The world is a completely different place since you left. I’m not even sure you would recognize it. 
I think of you all the time. 
Love, Emily

Happy Birthday Pops. I miss you. Especially your laughter and intelligence. Currently, the world is lacking in both of those. Thinking of you today. Love & miss you. Wish we could go to the movies.

Happy 91st, Daddy! We all miss you, but are glad you have not been around for the degradation of the United States Supreme Court. Or the pandemic. You timed it right, Dad. You would hate this. Hope you are happy in your heaven where I picture you reading some large tome with your slippers on.
Love,
Patty

Hi Dad,
It's been 8 years already and I still miss you every day. I hope you are reunited with Mom, who has joined you there and are having one of your lively conversations about politics, sports or culture. I love you.
xxoopatty

Happy 90th, Daddio! It's been 8 years. Still miss you every day. Hope you're enjoying yourself!
Love you still.
PJDxxoo

Dad....remembering you and your infectious laugh today. I wanted you to know that I have painted some large walls in my house the same color as that tropical linen coral colored blazer you used to wear so well. some might say thats wacky but it sure looked good on you and it looks great on my walls. The whole world has gone to hell in a hand basket and it is best you are not here to witness it....same for Mom. I hope there is some sort of afterlife where you got to hang with the people you love and i hope you have found that nirvana. love you and miss you always......reen

I was thinking about you this morning Dad while walking Kai in Jockey Hollow, and I hadn’t realized at that moment that it was the anniversary of your passing.  I was considering how much you achieved from such humble origins. We miss you every day and always remember you.

John

Dear Dad,
Today is the seventh anniversary of your death and we all still miss you more than you know. I think of you daily and now, since Mom is gone too, I think of you together. Missing both of you all at once. The world seems to be teetering on the verge of disaster, especially in the White House, and I'm glad you are not here to see it. But I hold out hope that Democracy will be restored, the pandemic will be wrangled under control and we can all meet again to celebrate you and mom and the beautiful family created from your auspicious coming together. Love you and miss you, Dad.

Dear Dad,
Six years now and we're all still missing you like it was just yesterday. We love you and honor your memory every day, especially when we visit your haunts in Chicago, Lowell or at Seton Hall. You live on in our memories and we carry you in our hearts always.
Love, Patty

Missing the Big Guy today. Wish you were around to see us take Chicago by storm at front and center in the Loop with Teatro ZinZanni. I think of you every time i walk into the tent Dad. I imagine you there in your hot pink sports coat working the room. Love you.

Happy Birthday Big Guy. We miss you. Love, Emily

Love you, Dad. Miss you more than you'll ever know. Happy Birthday! xxxooopatriciajeanellenmaryduff

Casey at the Bat
BY ERNEST LAWRENCE THAYER
A Ballad of the Republic, Sung in the Year 1888
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought if only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now with Casey at the bat.
But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey’s getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile on Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one,” the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted some one on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two.”
“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clinched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.
No joy in Mudville, Dad. Still miss you every day. xxoopatty

Happy Birthday, the day after, Daddy. I was flying all day yesterday on your birthday, thinking of you after a great Dufforama in Hawaii. We all think of you often, it's clear. You are still present, Dad, with us forever. Love, Patre.

Happy Birthday Dad, we miss you. We all just returned from a great family trip to Hawaii which you would have loved. Thinking of you all the time.

There's no joy in Mudville without you, Dad. Miss you. xxoopjemd

It has been 4 years since you left. I believe if you were still here this country would be in better condition. I miss your intelligence and your laughter. Love you Dad.

Thinking of you today Dad. Hard to believe it's 4 years since you passed. You would be very proud of the fact that 4 of your grandchildren are in school at Columbia College Chicago. Thank you for that prescient gift Dad. it is the gift that keeps on giving. Always with love....reen

Happy Birthday, Dad. We all miss you very much. Hope the reading is going well and that you are enjoying plenty of cream soda and banana, rocky road, pistachio ice cream! Love you, Patty.

Emily's right, Dad. You wouldn't believe this election.
I think of you so often Dad and miss you every day. You would be so thrilled to see three of your grandchildren soaking up your legacy at Columbia College Chicago. I know that you are watching over them. They feel you and love you for what you have given them. Keep them safe, Dad. I know you will. Enjoy that book. Love you, Patty.

It has been three years since we lost you. More if you count the years that Alzheimer's slowly took you away from reality. I wish I could tell you about my life. You would be happy about my travels. I think of you whenever I visit a new place. Three of your grandchildren are at Columbia College thanks to you. They are doing well and enjoying Chicago. I miss you. Love, Emily Anne 

PS You wouldn't believe this Presidential election...

Thinking of you Dad on what would have been your 85th birthday. We all miss you and talk about you often....citing your larger-than-life personality and your penchant for flashy duds. I am grateful for the opportunity you have given to your grandkids to attend Columbia College in Chicago. You would be proud to know that Madelaine and Henry will join Claudia there in a few months. Madelaine is very excited and appreciative as well. You are/were the ultimate negotiator, Dad. With love....Reen.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Thinking of you, as always. We miss you. xx pjd


Remember

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star’s stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother’s, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Remember.

Joy Harjo, 1951

Dad....i have been thinking about you alot of late...in anticipation of this 2 year anniversary of your passing. i am still sad that i didn't get to say goodbye. you were a warm and bright light in my life...throughout my life....i don't know that you ever really understood how much i loved you. i remember that day when i was visiting you and i had to say goodbye to you in the middle of the art institute of chicago....when you took me to the magritte exhibit and there were hundreds of people trying to see the art....and i was standing in the middle of all that chaos and you had to leave and i was just standing there crying because i missed you and didn't want you to leave. there were so many instances in my life when i was moved to tears in connection to something regarding you. i didn't want to disappoint you and i always wanted to spend more time with you. thank you for all that you did to make a great life for me and our family.....your gifts keep on giving. love reen

We all miss and think about you often Dad. I especially miss being able to ask you a question about anything and you would invariably have an answer.  If not you might say, "the next he tells you that - you tell em".
I love and miss you Dad.
John

Dear Dad, It's been two years and I still miss you like it was yesterday. We all love you, Dad, and keep you with us when we're together. xxoop

“Time drops in decay
Like a candle burnt out.
And the mountains and woods
Have their day, have their day;
But, kindly old rout
Of the fire-born moods,
You pass not away.”
― W.B. Yeats, The Celtic Twilight: Faerie and Folklore

His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself, which these dead had one time reared and lived in, was dissolving and dwindling.

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

James Joyce, "The Dead"

Missing you so much, Dad. Happy Birthday. Love, PJD

Thinking of you today Dad as it would have been your 84 Birthday. You were taken from us too early and I wish you were still here with your facilities intact so that you could enjoy the family that you helped to create. We all think of you fondly and miss what you brought to the party. Loving you always and thinking of you more than you know. x reen

Dear Dad,
A year has gone by since you left this world but I feel your presence every day. I am constantly reminded of all the progress you made throughout your career. You had a positive effect on so many lives and that keeps you present on this earth. I miss you, Dad. We all do.
Love, Emily

Thinking of you Dad. I find I talk to you out loud a lot…hoping that you will help me figure things out. I wish you were still here with us. I love you Big Guy…..you showed me the way. x reen

Still thinking of you, Dad, wherever you are. This is the first anniversary of your death, but even after a year I still feel your absence from the world like a fresh wound. Thinking of you. Love you, Dad.

Happy Birthday, Dad. We miss you. Love from all of us.

Full of Life Now

Full of life, now, compact, visible,
I, forty years old the Eighty-third Year of The States,
To one a century hence, or any number of centuries hence,
To you, yet unborn, these, seeking you.
 
When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible;     
Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking me;
Fancying how happy you were, if I could be with you, and become your comrade;
Be it as if I were with you. (Be not too certain but I am now with you.)

Walt Whitman

This Tribute to Our Father, John B. Duff follows more than my 50 years of being the recipient of a kind, generous, funny and brilliant father. We all loved him enormously and what he leaves behind is his legacy of great accomplishment in the field of higher education, the Harold Washington Library in Chicago and a slew of people who admired his generous spirit. Rest in Peace, JBD.