I had a message this morning from a friend to tell me she had lost her father last Wednesday after a long drawn-out illness. It's been coming a long time and in many ways it is a release for all of them, but it is still hard.
There is a poem that I turn to in times like these. I suspect many of you will already know it but I thought I'd share it here for those of you who have not seen it before. It always brings me great comfort. I love the simplicity of it, and the peace in the words.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's
I am the swift uplifting rush,
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
Mary Elizabeth Frye