On December 22, 1999, my Dzia Dzia (Polish for Grandfather) passed away.
Christmas can be a beautiful time of love, hope and compassionate, but it can also be incredibly difficult for those who’ve lost someone. I miss my Dzia Dzia everyday and the light he brought to my life each day but more specifically during the months that he lived with my family. I was only eight years old when he was taken from us but his positivity and love remains with me to this day.
I read a poem today, and it’s simplicity and beauty reminded me of how my Dzia Dzia would want me to smile and be happy during the holidays, and for that reason – I wanted to share it with you.
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.
All is well.