Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to 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 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 effect.
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 absolute unbroken continuity.
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
I wanted to share this poem in memory of my brother John, who passed away last week after a ten month battle with multiple myeloma. Although John was the oldest and I was the youngest of our four siblings, I feel like I have lost my twin. His obituary reads, "John was a philosopher and avid reader. He loved cats, naps, the beach, sweets of all kinds and most of all, joking."
Click here to visit the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation
