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 snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
An interesting piece of literature, and a very moving one. There's more than one version, but, they're all very similar. Most people attribute it to Mary Frye, although I've seen it attributed to Royster, the Indians of the Northwest,and authors anonymous. It doesn't matter much, as I consider it a classic piece, and it's helped me through more than one period of loss. It still brings a tear to my eye whenever I read it.
When I lost my Gordon "Duncan" many years ago now, I'd look at the sky, and know that his spirit was in the clouds above, looking down on me and watching over me. It's been almost fifteen years, and I still feel that way sometimes...
It's odd when we lose a companion like that, that was very close to us. For weeks I thought I'd caught a glimpse of him running toward me out of the corner of my eye, or hear his farmiliar sounds in another room..
It's tough to lose a friend so close, and I've been through it now more times than I ever wanted. But, we always open ourselves up to the hurt again...
So, this post is for anyone who has faced that loss, expects to face it soon, or is wondering how to cope in the future..
Don't cry at their graves... They are not there, they did not die....