Martin Richard Gilks

Death Is Nothing At All

Death is nothing at all...
I have only slipped away to the next room...
I am I and you are you...
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak it to me in the same way you always used.
Put no difference into your tone,
Wear no false air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word it ever was.
Let it be spoken without effect, without the ghost to shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident.

I am but waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner.
All is well.

Henry Scott Holland 1847 -1918

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April 03, 2007.

365 days after Martin's death, Shaun, Parkes and myself made the 18 kilometer round trip up Navachia mountain in Andalucia, Southern Spain, to scatter Martin's ashes. Navachica, at 5997 ft or 1834 m is the second highest in the region and higher than anything in the U.K (Ben Nevis is 4406 ft or 1344 m).

Martin loved this place.

The climb took 8 hours.

Martin's ashes were scattered at the easterly point of the summit ridge, a poem picked by our dad by Henry Scott Holland wrapped the small plaque that we buried beneath the Cairn built to mark the spot.

Thank you x

Martin Richard Gilks
02.03.1965 - 03.04.2006