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	Comments on: Remembering&#8230;	</title>
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		By: amy vorenkamp photography		</title>
		<link>https://mbsgallery.com/2012/06/19/remembering/#comment-6</link>

		<dc:creator><![CDATA[amy vorenkamp photography]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Sep 2012 20:33:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://artisticimpressionsbymara.com/dev/2012/06/19/remembering/#comment-6</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mara - I came across this on your blog and it is beautifully written. I hope the pain lightens at some point and that your loss doesn&#039;t always feel so heavy. I&#039;ve been through my share of loss. My mom gave me a book in college called September by Rosamunde Pilcher.  Here is a quote from the book that I always refer to.  “...Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? 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.”]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Mara &#8211; I came across this on your blog and it is beautifully written. I hope the pain lightens at some point and that your loss doesn&#39;t always feel so heavy. I&#39;ve been through my share of loss. My mom gave me a book in college called September by Rosamunde Pilcher.  Here is a quote from the book that I always refer to.  “&#8230;Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? 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.”</p>
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