The obituary notice of Jean Winifred BRIDGE

Words in memory of Jean.

Jean first met my mum, Sylvia, when they arrived at Teacher Training College as 18 year olds and shared a room. They remained friends, both still enthralled with the joy of teaching until their passing last year.
I’d like to share a poem that resonated with mum and was read at her funeral. Jean approved of the choice.

Do not stand in this place 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 this place and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.

“Do not stand at my grave and weep” adapted from Mary Elizabeth Frye