For those of us who've lost a Mum

GraceB Member Posts: 1,595
edited 8. Nov 2016, 04:20 in Community Chit-chat archive
I found this when looking for a poem for Mum's funeral service. We're using this instead of a reading as Mum loved poetry.

She is Gone

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she would want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
David Harkins



  • frogmorton
    frogmorton Member Posts: 28,487
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    Oh Grace that's lovely and so true.

    Thank you for taking the time to post it ((()))


    Toni xxx

    My brother read this at my Mum's funeral:

    The Ship


    What is dying
    I am standing on the seashore, a ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
    She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says: "She is gone."
    Gone from my sight that is all.
    She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
    The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says,
    "She is gone"
    there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:
    "There she comes!"
    and that is dying.

    Bishop Brent

    Extra appropriate as she had Rod Stewart's 'Sailing' as we left the crematorium.
  • daffy2
    daffy2 Member Posts: 1,636
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    An apt and moving summary of the choices that face us when dealing with loss of loved one. Than you for posting Grace.
    My mother's funeral was 4 years ago today, and this poem chimes with what the vicar said at the service.
  • stickywicket
    stickywicket Member Posts: 27,413
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    Thank you, Grace. And frog.

    I first came across the David Harkins one at the funeral of a friend's son who had died far too young. I liked it instantly. It lacks the mawkishness of so many funeral 'poems'.

    Then I discovered it was not written for someone's death but is actually a story of unrequited love. David Hawkins' (a former factory worker) own story is fascinating. . This article about him contains the original version of the poem.

    Frog, I've also long-liked the Bishop Brent version of death though I guess one has to have some sort of faith for it to resonate.
  • barbara12
    barbara12 Member Posts: 21,280
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    Thankyou Grace and Toni ...I do love poetry and so did my brother ..he wrote one for my mums funeral over 30 years now and I still have it somewhere.. :)
    SW thanks for that... I have heard it so many times..and shocked to hear it was more a love poem..I will go and read his story..
  • GraceB
    GraceB Member Posts: 1,595
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    Thanks everyone. When I found that poem I thought the words were lovely and that Mum would have appreciated them.

  • Turbogran
    Turbogran Member Posts: 2,015
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    That poem is lovely Grace xx
  • bubbles
    bubbles Member Posts: 6,508
    edited 30. Nov -1, 00:00
    oh Grace and Toni, they are both beautiful.
    I read this to Mum, quietly, after Dads Funeral.

    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 glints on snow.
    I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
    I am the gentle autumn rain.
    When you awaken in the morning's hush
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    Of quiet birds in circled flight.
    I am the soft stars that shine at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and cry;
    I am not there. I did not die.

    Now I need to go compose myself. XX