During the period of Dawn’s passing, I encountered three texts that resonated with me and gave me some comfort during a terrible time. As the anniversary of Dawn’s passing approached, I was giving thought to our shared loss, and wanted to share these texts with you today, on the anniversary of her passing.

The first came from a Timothy Egan book I read; A Pilgrimage to Eternity: a discussion of spirituality and religion. As Egan follows an ancient pilgrim’s path from Canterbury to Rome he is joined by his daughter. This is the response to her father’s question about her belief.

“I know what I believe in. I value family, friends, love, community, lifelong learning, continuous self-improvement, reflection, creative expression, empathy, care of the natural world and all the creatures who inhabit it.”

Dawn was never a member of an organized religion and so had no religion-defined beliefs. However, Dawn was a very spiritual person and had strong beliefs. This extract leapt out of the page to me, and beautifully encapsulated the things that were important to Dawn. Not only were these her values but she respected and fought for them every day of her life.

Secondly, a woman who helped us during Dawn’s final days sent this eulogy written by Aaron Freeman. It talks to how Dawn lives on with us.

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral.

“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.”

I love the idea that Dawn is still part of us, is still with us.

Finally, this poem by Henry Scott-Holland was sent by a friend, it warms my heart and makes me cry.

Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into 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 to me in the easy way you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we always enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the trace of a shadow in it.

Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you for an interval. Somewhere very near. Just around the corner.

All is well.

The most important thing in Dawns life were her family and friends. Within you all is the love and friendship that you shared with Dawn. Dawn is still with us through you all.

Dawn will always be with us.

– Dave Frearson, November 14th, 2023