I have had a year from hell my wife passed away at too young an age. This site the people on it have been a help to me in this very lonely time. I want to give my thanks to everyone from Michael on down for the time and energy people put into these forums.
Thanks for sharing that. I can't imagine living without Marcia...
This is one of my favourite poems on the subject:
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
"Throughout the years, this poem has appeared in many places and in many forms. The original was written in 1942 by Baltimorean Mary Frye on the back of a brown paper bag. Frye wrote the poem for a friend whose mother had died in Germany; the daughter had been unable to attend the funeral because of World War II."