Passing Friend.

[Betty]

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 still are.
Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in
the easy way, which you always used. Put no
difference in your tone, wear no forced air of
solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed
at little jokes 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 effort, without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as
it ever was; there is unbroken continuity. 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.

                                                                                                                                     
Henry Scott Holland
                                                                                                              1847-1918