The poem reflects the words you told me when we were reunited…. how we talked and were together two weeks ago on Sunday. So ill so brave, so full of life, courage to carry on even when it was hardly bearable still…
My dear friend for 40 years, who was always there and like a mother to me since my own mother died when I was 21….
Thursday 23th of August 2012 your struggle with cancer ended, you walked towards a better place, back to Albert, without pain or sorrow…you are in my heart…xxx
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Poem by Henry Scott Holland ~ 1847-1918
Canon of St. Paul’s Cathedral ~ London. UK