What is this thing that men call death?
This quiet passing in the night?
‘Tis not the end but genesis
Of better worlds and greater light
O God, touch Thou my aching heart
And calm my troubled, haunting fears
Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure
Give strength and peace beyond my tears.
There is no death, but only change
With recompense for vict’ry won
The gift of Him who loved all men
The Son of God, the Holy One.
President Gordon B. Hinckley
As Grandma moves onto better things, this poem written by President Hinckley shortly before his death seems very apt. There’s a great deal to be thankful for in Grandma’s ‘quiet passing in the night’: I’m only grieving for all that I remember she was, and for what I will miss.