Monday, June 29, 2015

I have only slipped away into the next room.

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 to me in the same 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 we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the shadow of a ghost 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 around the corner. All is well.

Henry Scott Holland, (27 January 1847 – 17 March 1918) was Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford
Perhaps there'll be a time where I can read this without shedding a tear. But like many others in Blogland, the tears flow freely as I think upon a sweet Welsh terrier I never met and her pack who must now learn to live without her running with them on the beach or up the Gop or demanding the copilot seat in a certain Berlingo. RIP, Meg.


  1. Yes, very sad. Strange isn't it, that we can become so saddened by the death of a dog we've never met; BUT WE DO!

  2. Lovely and yes, we too have been distraught over the death of a dog. I feel for him. He'll miss his co-pilot

  3. I know, John & The Prof are rightly heartbroken - as are we blog-readers who share this sorrow with them. I was in tears reading the poem before I even scrolled down to realise you were talking about Meg.

  4. My Da used to tell me wonderful stories about a place he called "the happy hunting ground." He said that animals went here to wait for their loved ones and had all these buddies to hang with until then, I loved that story.

  5. This is one of my very favorite poems and it helped me when my husband died last year .. I kept reminding myself that he wasn't really gone .. as I feel the same about my dog Tate who died right before we left Argentina and came back to the US.
    He is still with me too. I walk around with quite a few lovely ghosts these days ~