Wednesday, April 16, 2008

"Do not stand at my grave and weep ..."

For the first Christmas my family celebrated, after the death of my husband, I made photo albums for each of his sisters, his mom, our two children (one of them yet to be born), and a close friend.

These I filled with every picture I had of him and a typed copy of Frye's poem:  "Do not stand at my grave and weep ...".

Some of them cried to receive it, some thanked me, some quietly closed the book and changed the subject.  But I know they all appreciated it. 

Especially when you consider that they all lived so close that not one of them took pictures of him on a regular basis.  Why would they?  He was right there.


~~~


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 softly falling snow,
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight
I am in the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I do not die.

~Mary E. Frye (1932)


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