Sunday 30 August 2015

The Things You Stumble Upon While Doing Research

This is a quote from The King of Terrors by Henry Scott Holland, or so Wikipedia (the source of the above) tells me. Whether or not the oft-quoted (but to me unknown) passage does justice to his overall sermon or theology is one thing, but this particular passage just spoke to me. 

Eight days ago marked three years in which my father is dead and gone. I think about him daily, yet rarely speak of that, or him. I don't know why. Maybe it's because nobody else does either.

But this piece sums up how I feel. How I still feel, even after three years. And how I'm sure he'd feel if he had anything to say about it. Except the part of meeting again. He didn't have much hope that there would be a whole lot more than black, bleak nothingness. Which isn't so bad - because if there is nothing, and you do cease to be... you tend to not notice that blackness and bleakness anyway.

Just thought I'd share this.

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