A Breath of Fresh Air

Throughout my journey as a journeyman. A journeyman? What hogwash! Perhaps the word I was searching for is seeker. Another load of hogwash, who you trying to kill softly, first you say journey, then journeyman, now you say search and out came seeker! Can you be more original? Pfffttt...

Ok, enough of me talking to myself. What I meant to say was, ever since Jon left us to go out to the great yonder, I have sought refuge and solace and meaning in many a prose, phrases and stories documenting, death, loss, absence, and the like. and I have been recently the fortunate recipient of such a gem composed by George Scott Holland sent to me by a good friend who is also enduring a somewhat similar kind of loss. I publish it here for Jon, for mum, for the family and for me.

Death is nothing at all ~by George Scott Holland

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room.

Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.

Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name.

Speak of 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 that 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 an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.

There is absolute and 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 but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.

All is well. Nothing is hurt; 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!

”