Reflections on All Soul's Day

It is hard for me to believe that my father died eight years ago. He was my hero. To the world, he was elegance personified, as handsome at 95 as he was at 19, a dashing dresser, and incomparable on the dance floor. To his colleagues he was fearless, clear-thinking and deeply competitive. To his friends and allies he was fiercely loyal—and honest to a fault. While losing was never an option, you always found a path to victory that you could be proud of.

Though I miss him terribly, I believe that he is an inextricable part of me, and thus, in some sense, omnipresent in my life. Today, as we celebrate All Soul's Day, I want to share a poem that beautifully expresses the ways in which those whom we love are always with us. 

Death is Nothing at All

Henry Scott-Holland,  Canon of St Paul's Cathedral

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 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
It is the same as it ever was
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!