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A Doorway

“Death is nothing at all. I have merely slipped away into another room. Whatever we were to each other, we still are. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the same easy way you always have. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. All the trips we took together. Play, smile, think of me, and pray for me if you are so inclined. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it always was. There is absolute unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of your mind because I am out of your sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well. I am at peace. Someday we will be together again.”

This is an excerpt of a letter a client, who had terminal pancreatic cancer, wrote to his family just before he died. Afterward, his teenage daughter, who had always had her dad help her write her essays, became very distraught because she had to write essays for college admissions and felt she could not create them without her father's assistance. So I had her create and draw her personal doorway to "another room" where she might see her father and talk with him about her essays. She was able to write them with his help. Here is an image of her doorway.




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