O Captain! my Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! Our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting...

Poem to be continued...

I think there has been no blog about the time in DC

 because it is hard to find the words to describe the events. 

And as I was recounting Walt Whitman's opening lines I realized they fit nicely

(though, please pay no attention to the rest of the poem :) ).

The ship has been through a lot waiting for this Senate confirmation hearing,

but the prize we sought is won. 

Several Wednesdays ago our west coasters came to meet up with us east coasters

to celebrate our Captain's Senate confirmation hearing,

to finally confirm him as a federal judge for the middle district of Florida.

We couldn't be more proud. 

For a dad who has supported each of us,

through absolutely everything...little league, buzzin bees, dalton's diamonds, boy scouts, endless sporting events, college applications, college graduations, deployments, career changes, weddings (ok..A wedding), grandparent hood...it was something special watching someone who has helped us all work toward and achieve our dreams, achieve one of his own.

Technically, we are still playing the waiting game...but...

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting!

No one deserves it more.

Florida, you're in good hands (well, in as much as your federal bench).

Dad, we love you.  We're proud of you.

I think you would like to know that I can still recite the entire first verse

of Walt Whitman's poem no problem,

I had to look a little more for reassurance toward the end...I'll work on it. 

 For those who don't know, when we were younger our dad made us memorize "O Captain! my Captain!" and recite it (to him, the captain) when we were out on the boat...oh the memories.

p.s.  Judges can still be really awesome Granddads.

p.p.s  this is also why the family dog is named "Captain"

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.