What is death?
Henry Scott Holland
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into 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 on your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laughed as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, and pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without affect,
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 absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.
All is well.
A lost of a love one in life is some what both tragic and relieving. Tragic in the sense that it is a fact that we can no longer mingle with them like we used too when they were still alive, but on the other hand, relieving that we consider that they have gone to a better place where there will be no more suffering for them.
"Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?"
Condolence to my buddy luiboy... hang'on dude...