A few words for a friend who has recently experienced another death in her circle. Granted they aren't entirely appropriate for this particular situation, but interesting none-the-less:
The Body of
B. Franklin,
Printer:
Like the Cover of an old Book,
Its contents torn out,
And stript of its Lettering and Gilding,
Lies here, Food for Worms,
But the Work shall not be wholly lost:
For it will, as he believ'd, appear once more,
In a new & more perfect Edition,
Corrected and amended
By the Author.
This is Ben Franklin's epitaph, written in something like 1771.
The quote comes from a book called "The Founders on Religion; a book of quotations". Why, you may ask, am I reading this? Well, I made a pact with the devil, so to speak. My old man, the wilde karrde, and I made a deal to exchange books with each other and this is the first book he has given me. He believes I never do anything practical or religious and that I am lacking in any moral foundations. If only we could all see ourselves honestly. It might lead to some interesting realizations.
I did, however, enjoy BF's referral to his body as an old book and his mention of the Afterlife, for that is something I firmly believe in. Friends take heart in the face of death.