Death is nothing at all.

It does not count.

I have only slipped away into the next room

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 that old familiar name.

Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.

Put no difference in your tone.

Wear no forced air of sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household name it always was.

Let it be spoken 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 around the corner.

All is well.

Rosamonde Pilcher, 1991

Blessings and strength to you and yours. xxx

V

Never make someone a priority, who makes you an option.