AN ACCOUNT OF THE PRIVATE "FAREWELL" SERVICE FOR DONALD LEO HEALY HELD AT EVERETT, WASHINGTON BY HIS IMMEDIATE FAMILY ON APRIL 12, l986.

                                            by Kit Healy

Dad had mentioned on at least one occasion that when he died, he wanted his ashes spread at sea; and that after this was done, we should all go out and have a party. As fate would have it, about four months ago Don Roy purchased a 28-foot Islander sailboat (which he named the "MistDefying"); and at the time of Dad's memorial service he suggested that we could all sail out together on the waters of Puget Sound and spread the ashes as Dad had wished.
As of Friday, April, 13, it didn't appear as though the weather was going to cooperate. Forecasts called for rain, wind and cold, but we didn't want to delay too long, especially since David and Sherry needed to return to San
Francisco by Saturday evening (April 12).

As Saturday morning dawned, the skies were overcast and the air was chilly but there was no rain and not much wind. So we called Don. Then Mom, Marilyn, Monique, David, Sherry, Nadine and I drove up to Don's apartment in Mukilteo.  Don and I went down to his boat at the Everett Marina and prepared it for getting underway. The others arrived a little while after; and around noon we pulled out of the slip and cruised out of the marina under motor power.  The weather was still overcast but there were patches of blue sky; the temperature was quite comfortable; there was only a slight breeze; and the water
was very calm.

As we motored past the end of the breakwater. Don spotted a seal basking on a buoy, so we cruised toward it. Dad had seen seals while swimming in Puget Sound as a teenager and he enjoyed their carefree company. As we passed
within twenty feet or so of the buoy, the seal watched us go by with a sort of casual but friendly expression and we continued cruising south out into the middle of Port Gardner Bay.  At around 12:40, Don stopped the motor and 1et the boat drift at a point several hundred yards away from a large freighter moored in the harbor. The water still quit calm with gentle swells. We all gathered together in the
cockpit near the stern and Don read a short address that he had prepared.  It appears as follows.

Dear Dad:

As you told us many tines during your life, it was your wish that upon your passing we scatter your ashes on the waters of Puget Sound.  We are gathered here today to fulfill that request and to return your mortal remains to the waters that you so loved and that nurtured you during your life. As we say goodbye to your physical presence, your spirit and essence remain within each of us, stronger than ever before.  And as we continue forward in our lives, the generosity, the compassion, the tolerance, the willingness to listen to and to encourage not only family and friends, but all beings with whom you shared this life, and the philosophy that each of us should let our imaginations guide us in achieving all that we can from life; to live our dreams, so to speak; that these ideas and philosophies that you taught us will continue with us through our lives and thus be passed forward from one generation to another in an embodiment of the spirit that is you.

Dad, may your future be filled with peace and harmony, as we most lovingly say farewell to you for the time being.

I had also prepared the comments which appear below and read them after Don was finished.

Well Dad, here we are on Don's boat, delivering your ashes to the waters of Puget Sound as you requested. We will certainly miss your physical presence, but your spirit lives on with us. Although its a shame you couldn't have been around longer to be with us and to do all the things you were so enthusiastic about doing, nonetheless, I, at least, am not sad. On the contrary, I've been feeling a remarkable kind
of joy and I think it's because you did such a good and complete and full job with your life. When I spoke with you last Sunday, you mentioned, as you have mentioned before, how proud you were with all of us. Well we feel at least as fortunate and proud for having had such a loving, generous, talented and otherwise superlative father. Your life was a full and splendid thing and rather than mourn, I feel like
celebrating a job well done. So ...

CONGRATULATIONS AND WELL DONE!l!!!1!!!!!11

(Please note all the exclamation marks at the end of that.)
Thanks so much for everything. And whatever you're doing, keep on enjoying yourself. We will, too.  Also, I was going to get rid of this model of the Santa Maria a long time ago but you always wanted to keep it. So we're going to try to
set it afloat with your ashes. It needed ballast, so we filled it up with a few of your many pencils.

Take care and thanks again for everything.


Following this. Mom spread the ashes gently into the water over the stern. David then launched the Santa Maria which I had built at the age of twelve or so. Unfortunately, it did not stay upright very long, but it remained afloat nonetheless.

After a short interval, Don restarted the motor and we cruised back toward the marina, again passing the buoy with the seal on it. He was still there, basking away, but as we passed by him this time, he gave us a nice, enthusiastic bark.

After securing Don's boat at its slip. Sherry said that she and David would like to treat us all to lunch at a restaurant at the marina named Pelican Pete's, adding that this would be particularly appropriate since Dad had become fond of eating there. So we had a very pleasant and satisfying lunch at Pelican Pete's. As we were leaving Mom also mentioned that they had just left this same restaurant with Jane and were driving back home when Dad had his first seizure, thus making it the place where Dad had his last meal.

From here, we all drove David and Sherry down to SeaTac Airport so they could catch their 4 P.M. flight back to San Francisco. Then Mom, Don, Nadine, Marilyn, Monique and I ultimately all returned to the house around 5 P.M. and had some Breyer's ice cream with some delicious strawberries on top which Monique had picked out.