Mary Catherine Hatch Nee Teasdale

MAM

****
THE CLOCK OF LIFE
The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop,
At late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own;
Live, love, toil with a will:
Place no faith in tomorrow for
The clock may then be still.
****

Maureen White Nee Hatch (Daughter) November 22, 2008

Mary♥

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. . . . . . . .*****. . . . . .*. . . . . . *
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. . . . . . . . . .******* . ***
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love from karen and family xxx

Karen Skipsey November 8, 2008

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.
Put 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 and if you want to, 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 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.

Lesley Tracey November 5, 2008