The poem we found in your handbag after we lost you is the same one supplied by British Heart Foundation. It was sent to you from your aunty Margie and uncle Ted when your mum died, they said it helped them when they lost their girls. So here it is in full Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I and you are you. Whaterver we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my own family 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 always enjoyed together. Pray, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be the household name it always was, let it be spoken without effort, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it has meant, it is the same 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