Posts Tagged ‘death of parent’

We found this piece of prose when my mother died.  I think someone gave it to her when my father passed away.    Author is Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral
‘The King of Terrors’, a sermon on death delivered in St Paul’s Cathedral on Whitsunday 1910, while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster.  Thank you to http://poeticexpressions.co.uk for letting us know who to credit for this beautiful work.

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 are still.
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 it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort, without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was; there is absolutely 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 waiting for you for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well.


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The hard-copy of “Do You Still Laugh? Do You Still Sing?” is currently being re-designed for e-book distribution and new hard copy.

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Thanks for your interest – we wish you peace in all of your relationships. 🙂

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Dear Mother,
It’s so hard to know at this moment whether I’m doing “the right things”. Spontaneous, right action is beautiful when people allow it and trust. Everything else is pure hell.
I can only imagine how many times it was that you were trying to express the depth of your love for us, your beautiful intelligence and how our family culture made fun of that. I hate that part of our way of interacting. Genius rarely has a comfortable home.
The chorale director wants his idea of a musically perfect funeral which is his right — and the family must be honored. I’m wondering how you do both so everyone is happy. Father Tank said, “Well, you can’t.”
Artists are so tempermental. What should I do? I want your love expressed. Period.
I remember your splendid example to me so many times to ignore unfair things and to take “the high road” knowing it will all work out in the long run. I have done that many times – that “high road” seems a little overrated to me right now. Right now I want to fight for what seems right.
I love the soul of who you are. I love the woman I looked up to as a little girl. You were so beautiful and perfect. Well, to me you were perfect. A movie star in a most beautiful movie.
Thank you.
Thank you for the beauty you gave us in so many forms — the food, the furniture, the flowers, the happiness, the magic, the love.
Thank youk for taking me to Italy. Thank you for noticing my talent and for believing in me. Thank you for the love and the most splendid example of softness you showed me in the last moments of your life.
I want to make sure people feel that now. That they don’t have to wait for a death.
I never felt that before. That was the real thing. Nothing else mattered. The fullness of your love finally expressed. The fullness finally expressed with no fear, no worry, nothing – only the fullness of life for the sake of the fullness of life.
I see now that I wasn’t who you needed me to be at times. I’m sorry for that. I wonder what my cheapness of though and heart would do such a thing? Why do we withhold our love from others? A bargaining chip perhaps? Ppplllbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb.
I know you are here – I feel you. I could always feel you in Chicago, in Austin, in Dallas – everywhere. I imagine this will be different. I keep thinking how I wanted to show you off to the world.
You are so beautiful. Thanks for letting me sing so softly in your ear – thanks for letting me say I love you. Thanks for letting me love you. What a gift.
Thanks for singing to me. Thanks for filling our house with music. Thanks for filling my heart with harmony. Thanks for all of your support, belief, disbelief and laughter.
Thanks for showing me your power that day when the door blew open. Just think what else we can do – just imagine. It’s going to be fun.
It’s my favorite time of day now – early, early morning. Precious time before the rest of the world wakes up. Remember how I would get up early in the morning to have breakfast with you and Daddy? It was the only time I could have you both to myself and I loved that. I’m sure you figured that out. Thanks for letting me be there.
Uh-oh. Here it comes. Everybody’s waking up now. Time for the rambunctious part of the day. Including children there must be about 15 people in the house rightnow. Our version of normal.
Thank you for helping me to see the rhythms of natural law. Thanks for helping me to respect them – and thanks for your patience while I tried to defy them.
You’re a genius. You are the blissful wizard. I am honored to be your daughter. I love you. I’m looking forward to the future.

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