Our Sweet Angel

Our Sweet Angel

Friday, October 9, 2015

Life means all that it ever meant...

I wish it was this easy.   The writing below by Henry Scott Holland is helpful on this day but will never, ever take the place of just wanting to give you one more hug and hold you tight.

We love you so much Carmen Leolani,

Mommy, Daddy, Trevor and Jake

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 my 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 the death but a negligible time?  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.

Henry Scott Holland, 1847-1918

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