[Fot] O.T. Poem: Death Is Nothing At All

[Justin Wagner]

Very much O.T.



Friends,

Back in '98, a neighbor put this on my door when she learned of my father's sudden passing.   
I just discovered it today amongst some old files (as I try desperately to get myself out 
from under too much "stuff".  Unfortunately, buried in debris, it was out of sight and mind when 
my mom suddenly passed in 2001.  I just sent a copy to my siblings, but thought maybe I should
send a copy to you all.   At both times, I found a lot of support in the camaraderie of the 
Triumph newsgroups.  Many of you wrote to me of the loss of your own parents, and loved ones.   
Perhaps this poem will have as much of an affect on you as it has had on me.  You may find yourself
passing it along to someone else, just as my neighbor had, to help make a difficult time just
a bit more bearable.  I wish I had had it at my fingertips, over the years since, when others about
me have lost loved ones, including members of the newsgroups.  

--Justin 



Death Is Nothing At All



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

  that 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.

 

--Henry Scott Holland  January 27, 1847 - March 17, 1918

Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral, London, England