Waltz Boldly Onto the Stage of Life

After my father died, I found this poem and I wondered if it were true.

Death Is Nothing At All

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.

Henry Scott Holland

My first memory of my father as a child was when I was 4 or 5 years old.  He took me on a thrilling motorcycle ride.  It was exhilarating ~ the wind whipping my hair across my face, seeing images race by, listening to the motor revving- I was scared and excited all at the same time.  It was then I realized life with him was going to be an adventure- and it has been.  As a family we played hide and go seek in the dark and he would scare the bajeebees out of us.  He dared us to jump off of the roof of the house into the swimming pool; he would hold us under water in the pool until we didn’t think we could hold our breath one more second; he had us jumping off of a 30 ft diving board in Texas. After I got divorced from my first husband I went home and moped around feeling sorry for myself. He told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and took me on a motorcycle ride on a backroad to Jerome.  We took a spill and he insisted I get back on.  

Every time he put me out of my comfort zone and I made it through, I believed a little more in my resilience. I believed I could do hard things; I believed that it paid off to take risks; I believed that crashing and burning were a part of every journey and not the end of it. I believed a little more in myself.

My father taught me through his actions and the way he lived his life, to “waltz boldly onto the stage of life and live the way you know your spirit is nudging you to” 

A couple of weeks ago my mother, sister and I spread my father’s ashes in the backyard, where my father spent so much of his time.  As I stuck my hands into his ashes, I realized what I was touching was only the remains of his vessel that contained his fiery, bold spirit.  We were not spreading my father on the ground. We were not freeing him from the container he was in; his soul was released when his body could no longer encompass his big audacious spirit. He is very much still alive, permeating the universe, living in all of us who knew him and were touched by his bold and fearless energy. 

So. . . Death is Nothing at All ...

 Since his death, I am no longer hesitantly dipping my toe in the waters of the unknown, wondering if I should get in; I dive in now, knowing that I can swim and that the cold, unknown water will make me feel that much more alive.  

I speak to my father everyday as if death is nothing at all.  I talk about big things like starting my life coaching business; I talk to him about little things like the sunrise I saw on my walk; I talk,  knowing he is with me.  These talks are reassuring to me.  They remind me that death is merely a transition that our souls go through; it is not final; it is not dark; it is not out of reach. Our soul is expansive and bright and ever lasting. 

So, YES! Death is really Nothing at All!