No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee...
[~John Donne]
In memory of Erin…
I do not feel that I have words that would convey what is inside...for words are so limited compare to the feelings...The least I can do - to send my thoughts and the promise from my heart to remember...and hope that on some other plane of the Existence they will reach out to the soul...Those who's gone are now rest in peace, what is left for us are memories of them...Her last letter was last Sunday. It was a good and calm letter about trying to act as a well person for as much as she can and plans of early Christmas celebrations next weekend with her kids and family coming over…she passed away yesterday…I hope she didn’t suffer much…
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory,
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
[~Percy B. Shelley]