Death is Nothing By Sir Henry Scott Holland

written by Sir Henry Scott Holland  ( 1847 - 1918 )

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away
into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly
as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so
 fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to
 each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of 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 an effort,
 without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
 What is this death but a negligible accident? 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 round the corner. All is well.



That was nice. Thanks for sharing that

I\'m reading through your entries from the last, up to this one.
You write about life...and I\'m so thanful you have Thought Out Loud with us.