From Her Husband Jacques Beaulieu With a Recent Photograph:
Collage Made By Our Son Paul from Old Photographs:
Text written by her husband on January 1st 2019On Thursday, December 27th 2018, in room 929 at the Maisonneuve-Rosemont Hospital, before 5:45 am., something special happened: my beloved wife Linda Nita Nadin Beaulieu breathed her last and her body died. But something else more important happened then and there: Jesus,with many others, came down from Heaven to rise her from death. Her corruptible body was left behind but she rose with a new, spiritual body. No more difficult breathing: her new lungs breathed the Holy Spirit of God. Her new eyes could see her mother and father, her relatives, her friends who had gone to God Father before her. She was now living fully: no depression, no Type 1 diabetes, no knee prosthesis, no rheumatoid arthritis, no lung fibrosis, no dislocated shoulder. She now was fully alive; her previous life with its sufferings, troubles and difficulties was over. She can look down on us and care for us, but sufferings are out. She bore in her body the sufferings of Christ and now He was there to take her to her real Home. I remember her saying some days before she had to be admitted to the hospital that she wanted to go home, where her mother is. That is what happened: she was freed from her corruptible body to put on incorruption.
Death Is Nothing At All (By Henry Scott-Holland)Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which 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 that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!