If only I could believe the rhyme I had once found scribbled on the inside of a wardrobe in wartime England when I was billeted there during the war:
There is an old belief that on some distant shore,
far from despair and grief, old friends shall meet once more.
But I could not believe it. She was gone, forever.
--Jan de Hartog (1914-2002) in A View of the Ocean (2007) a memoir about the death of his mother


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