For Em

Em, her bench, and the Inukshuk she loved on English Bay

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 own familiar name,

Speak to me in the easy way 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 always 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 effort

Without the ghost of a shadow in it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

There is absolute unbroken continuity.

What is 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.

Nothing is past; nothing is lost.

One brief moment and all will be as it was before.

How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

~ Henry Scott-Holland, Canon of St Paul's Cathedral (1847-1918)

This is the poem I read aloud at Em's graveside service on Sunday. Isn't it wonderful? It brings me comfort when I feel so desperately sad.

I love you, Em, and I'll miss you every day until we meet again.

E xo