Do not stand at my grave and weep

[watervole]

Thank you all for the pictures, poems and anecdotes. You're a very perceptive bunch and are posting exactly the kind of things that I needed. I think I shall go back and look at them many times in the future. Each time I log on, I see new ones and they all help.
There's one or two of you who actually knew Rosalie. If you want to post a happy memory of her at any age, please do so.
You've all respected my request to avoid good advice, commiserations and poems about death and for that I thank you again.
There's only one death-related poem that I'm allowing and I'm posting that myself

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
  I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
  I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
  I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
  I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
  I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
  I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
  I am not there, I did not die!
Mary Frye (1932)
  You're all helping me to follow that philosophy.

Comments

Memories

[(Anonymous)]

1) Meeting your mum with two toddlers on tricycles.

2) Playing "Twinball" with your spouse - Rosalie and Gillian being the balls!

3) Sitting in the pub with Rosalie and suddenly realising that not only is she "pubbable" but was a very elegant young lady!

Alastair

Re: Memories

[waveney.livejournal.com]

I called "Twinball" "Catch", but either name fits. (They were about 10 or 11 when it was played).