She is Not Dead - by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Another friend sent this piece to me today, and it is indeed beautiful. Written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, it is titled "She is Not Dead"

"She is not dead, - the child of our affection,
But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ Himself doth rule.

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion,
By guardian angels led,
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,
She lives, whom we call dead.

Day after day we think what she is doing
In those bright realms of air;
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,
Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken
The bond which nature gives,
Thinking that our remembrance, through unspoken,
May reach her where she lives."

A Message from a Friend, as we mourn Joyce's death

I received this message from a friend today. The quote is from the famous German Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Since my Joyce came partly from German Lutheran stock, I thought it quite fitting at this time. I quote:

"... nothing can make up for the absence of someone whom we love, and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute; we must simply hold out and see it through. That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time it is a great consolation, for the gap, as long as it remains unfilled, preserves the bonds between us. It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap; he doesn't fill it, but on the contrary, he keeps it empty and so helps us to keep alive our former communion with each other, even at the cost of pain." From "On separation from those we love."