I Am Waiting For you, For An Interval.

I know I've taken a little break from my series on grief, loss, & suffering, but I've decided to add a few more things to this in the next few days. If you've missed my other posts on this topic, you can click here and go to the "loss" category. Each of my posts will be listed there by title. 

I was given this a number of years ago during a particularly difficult loss in my life, and it brought about such a beautiful image, so I thought i'd share it:

"Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into 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. But no difference in 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 effort, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was; there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near. Just around the corner. All is well."

-Henry Scott Holland Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral in London, England

When there is a death, I think it's such a shame when people refuse to ever talk about the person. I understand that sometimes talking can be painful, and trying to forget seems like the least painful route. However, the memories are still there, even if we try to avoid them. I think it's beautiful when people can sit and laugh about funny memories of the person, and carry them forward in life. People can continue to live on through our memories, and when we don't recognize the person and their life anymore, some of that goes away. Everyone deals with death differently, and I don't ever want to say there's just "one right way" to deal with it. There's not. But despite the pain, I've chosen to embrace the memories and share the stories. I found that this brings more joy then pain to my life, and throughout any given day, a little smile may come to my face at the memory of something. For me, this has been a much healthier approach to death.

What do you think of this quote? Is it hard to continue to talk about the person, or do you enjoy embracing the memories?