IN LIFE AND DEATH WE ARE ALL CONNECTED TO EACH 
OTHER.  LOST LOVE IS STILL LOVE.  IT JUST TAKES 
ON A DIFFERENT FORM, THAT'S ALL.  YOU CAN'T SEE 
THEM SMILE, OR BRING THEM SOMETHING TO EAT,
OR TOUSLE THEIR HAIR, OR MOVE THEM AROUND
 A DANCE FLOOR, BUT WHEN THOSE SENSES 
(THE PHYSICAL ONES) AREN'T PUT TO USE, 
OTHER SENSES HEIGHTEN.  MEMORY BECOMES 
YOUR PARTNER.  YOU NUTURE IT, YOU HOLD IT 
CLOSE, YOU DANCE WITH IT.  LIFE HAS TO COME 
TO AN END.  LOVE DOESN'T.

NOW LIFE WILL BE A LITTLE LESS SWEET, AND DEATH A LITTLE LESS BITTER...

I AM STANDING UPON THE SEASHORE. A SHIP AT MY SIDE SPREADS HER WHITE SAILS TO THE OCEAN. SHE IS AN OBJECT OF BEAUTY AND STRENGTH. I STAND AND WATCH HER UNTIL AT LENGTH SHE HANGS LIKE A SPECK OF WHITE CLOUD JUST WHERE THE SEA AND THE SKY COME TO MINGLE WITH EACH OTHER.

THEN SOMEONE AT MY SIDE SAYS, "THERE, SHE IS GONE!" "GONE WHERE?" GONE FROM MY SIGHT.  THAT IS ALL. HER DIMINISHED SIZE IS IN ME, NOT IN HER. AND JUST AT THAT MOMENT WHEN SOMEONE AT MY SIDE SAYS: "THERE, SHE IS GONE!"  THERE ARE OTHER EYES WATCHING HER COMING, AND OTHER VOICES READY TO TAKE UP THE GLAD SHOUT: "HERE SHE COMES!"  
And that is dying.

                                     by Rev. Henry Van Dyke

" IT HAS BEEN SAID, "TIME HEALS ALL WOUNDS."  I DO NOT AGREE.

THE WOUNDS REMAIN.  IN TIME, THE MIND, PROTECTING ITS SANITY, 

COVERS THEM WITH SCAR TISSUE AND THE PAIN LESSENS.  

BUT IT IS NEVER GONE.


                               ROSE KENNEDY      
 

It remains a wound that I carry with me; it lies deep and cannot be healed. After years it will be the same as it was the first day.
by Vincent Van Gogh