I am thinking about a friend who passed away this weekend. Yesterday morning at about 3:00. I have the privilege of speaking at his memorial this week and as I prepare my words for Mike’s family, I recalled this poem by Nancy Byrd Turner:
Death is a Door
Death is only an old door
Set in a garden wall;
On gentle hinges it gives, at dusk
When the thrushes call.
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Along the lintel are green leaves,
Beyond the light lies still;
Very willing and weary feet
God over that sill.
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Tehre is nothing to trouble any heart;
Nothing to hurt at all
Death is only quiet door
In an old wall.
Driving Thought 
So sorry to hear of Mike’s going home, but, glad for the body who was tired.