Imagine you are standing on the seashore. A ship at your side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength and you stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky meet and mingle with each other: "There, she is gone."
Gone where? Gone from your sight, that is all. She is just as large in hull and mast and spar as when she left your side ant just as able to bear her load of loving freight to the place of her destination. Her diminished size is in you, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at your side says, "She's gone," there are other eyes watching for her coming and other voices ready, to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!" And this is what we call dying - this is life.

Gone Where?
Csaba Osvath
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