My parents live in what could be considered an older part of town. Many of the neighbors there have been there for many years. Many of them are very old. My folks are probably a set of the youngest. This has made them the "Guardian" if you will of many of these older folks. They call my dad to help fix things they call my mom to help them out with various odds and ends.
My parents have had many friendships with these people and unfortunately they are the ones that get the call in the middle of the night that one of the neighbors have passed.

Last night they got another call. Mr. Warren Twitchell passed away. Many in this town may know him as the Principal of North School for many years. Many may know his the driving instructor that liked a good cigar. But I knew him as a crazy man who was a good friend of my fathers.
I can't tell you about his history or background or the daughters he left behind and the wife that will miss him terribly and the grandchildren that will forever miss him. I have no stories of the kind of educator he was. But in the end he was a good man and he tried to do right on this earth.

The end was hard on him and his family. Cancer came quickly and took over in a hurry.
Rest Mr. Twitchell rest now. You'll be missed but never forgotten. The garage at my fathers house will be a somber place today.



Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
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 sorrow in your tone.
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 effort
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 but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around 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.


Source: derived from a sermon written by Henry Scott Holland and delivered in St. Paul's (London) on 15 May 1910, at which time the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster. Although not originally derived from Irish writings, versions of this sermon have been used at many Irish and Catholic funerals over the years.