If The Words
Feel Hard To Find
What comes to mind when you think about the life that they lived? What comes to mind when you think of them as a person? What phrases did they often say, what were their favourite pasttimes, foods, scents, music, places to be, things to do. What about them do you want to make sure is remembered?
The forget-me-not takes its name from a promise not to be forgotten. The small, specific, perhaps everyday things, a favourite hobby, something they always said, are often what keep someone most vividly present. Naming one of them here is a way of keeping that promise.
Is there a voice, a line, or a passage that has ever spoken to what you are feeling?
Poets, songwriters and authors have long written about memory, absence, and grief in ways that can hold what you are feeling. Some well-loved poems for this moment include Christina Rossetti's "Remember," Mary Elizabeth Frye's "Do not stand at my grave and weep," and W.H. Auden's "Funeral Blues", but any writer whose words have ever moved you may be the right voice for this moment.
What would you like to thank them for bringing into your life?
Some blessings simply give thanks for the gift of their presence. Others let go of a weight you no longer want to carry. You do not need to choose only one; a blessing can hold both at the same time.
How will you include their memory in your life going forward?
This might be something as simple as remembering to enjoy every moment, or it could be a belief system and a way of living that you want to continue. Naming it, and returning to it when you need to, is itself a small act of keeping someone close.
What do you want to say to them, as you close this ceremony?
However it comes, let it be the words that feel true for you in this moment.
Recommended Poetry & Prose
Here we have selected some voices that others have found to be helpful, should you want company for your own words.
Remember
A gentle, unselfish piece giving mourners permission to grieve, but ultimately encouraging them to find peace and smile without guilt.
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.
Epitaph on a Friend
A short, sincere epitaph for a friend, honest rather than showy about faith and the afterlife.
An honest man here lies at rest, As e'er God with His image blest: The friend of man, the friend of truth; The friend of age, and guide of youth: Few hearts like his, with virtue warm'd, Few heads with knowledge so inform'd: If there's another world, he lives in bliss; If there is none, he made the best of this.
Death Is Nothing at All
This poem has a gentle, consoling register, reassuring the mourner that death is merely a gentle shift into another room rather than an end. It frames love and connection as unbroken, encouraging those left behind to speak, laugh, and remember them naturally without heavy solemnity or sorrow.
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 into 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 that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an 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 round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Fear No More the Heat o' the Sun (from Cymbeline)
For someone who worked hard or struggled for a long time, whose death can be framed partly as rest.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The scepter, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan: All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renownèd be thy grave!
Funeral Blues
This poem often resonates where the death is sudden or unexpected.
First published in 1938, this poem explores grief at the death of a loved one and how it can feel impossible that the world keeps on turning in the face of such an overwhelming and tragic event.
Purchase Stop All the Clocks: Poems of Love and Loss
by W.H. Auden at Topping & Company →
