Member-only story
November 11, 1968
Lest we forget indeed.
Do not stand at my grave 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 my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
When I first had this engraved on a plaque for my sister’s grave no one had been attributed to having written it. It was listed as ‘anonymous’. Now years later it’s being stated that it was written by Mary Elizabeth Frye. Ms. Frye must have led a good life. She was born in 1905 and lived until 2004. She was 99 when she passed away.
My sister, Bonnie, had not been as fortunate. Coming home from a party after a local high school football game, she was broadsided. Her car flipped upside down and landed on top of the other car. That car slide off the road and into a field. They all lay there for hours before finally being found. The second car had three…
