For Our Departed Friends

I am sure that this is what they would have said to us.

Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into 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 that you always used. Put no difference in 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 as it ever was; there is 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 round the corner.

All is well.

-- Henry Scott Holland

 

Links to some of their journals

 

http://journals.aol.com/demandnlilchit/Ishavedmylegsforthis/

 

http://journals.aol.com/his1desire/GirlsHeadNoise/

 

http://journals.aol.com/mzgoochi/lahomas-laments/