More Than The Spoken Words Can Tell

For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell

It’s 7.30am; I am sitting at the computer in tears.  They have just played Roger Whittaker singing The Last Farewell on the Radio.  I have written before about music and how it takes us back to another time and place in our lives.

I seem to go to many funerals these days.  My friends are mostly my age and so it is to be expected.  But this song immediately takes me back to the most moving and beautiful funeral that I have attended.  I have no recollection of my husband’s funeral although I am told by family and friends that it was beautiful and moving.

My husband’s closest friend died after a long fight over several years.  I saw him a few days before he died and we talked about Bob (my dashing not-so-young Scotsman) and of the fun the four of us had over many years.  And even though the death was not unexpected it was still hard, particularly for his wife who was lost without his guiding hand that had been there for more than 40 years.

His family had been involved as undertakers for many years and although the business was no longer in the family’s hands the funeral was conducted in that chapel.  I was given the supreme compliment of being asked to read a poem at the funeral.  My husband of course, would have been asked if he had been alive. The poem was Death is Nothing At All by Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral, London.

So on this lovely summer day here in Wellington, I am once again reminded that life is transitory and we must make the most of each and every day.

“…Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other that we are still……
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well.”

Click here for the full poem.