Death is nothing at all. I have only
slipped away into the next room. . . .
Whatever we were to each other, that we
are still. Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the same easy way you
always used. . . . Laugh as we always
laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed
together. Play, smile, think of me, pray
for me. . . . Life means all that it ever
meant. It is the same as it ever was. There
is absolute and 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.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and
all will be as it was before.
BY: Henry Scott Holland
