I visualise two gates. Two gates through which all can pass, day in day out, at any time. They open to an innocent passage, one leading to trees, the other to grass. But sometimes, people pass through those gates on a voyage from which there is no return. On two such occasions, the sun shone, and dappled light filtered through the leaves on the trees. On another occasion, a bitter autumn wind blew in from the sea, just a hop and a step away. I can go back through either gate at any time, on any day or hour. But those I accompanied on their final voyage will be there when I myself am no longer able to come.
The gates do not just herald an end of life. They also herald a profound change in circumstances, an irreversible change. On my passage through this life, I have now passed through such a gate on several occasions, and the change has been monumental. I very much miss those I accompanied to their final resting place. But I have to go on without them, taking them with me in spirit.