This is probably too long, but tis a fantastic poem and may be of some comfort, perhaps you could choose a quote from it?
How long does a man live after all?
A thousand days or only one?
One week or a few centuries?
How long does a man spend living or dying
and what do we mean when we say gone forever?
Adrift in such preoccupations, we seek clarification.
We can go to the philosophers
but they will weary of our questions.
We can go to the priests and rabbis
but they night be busy with administrations.
So, how long does a man live after all?
And how much does he live while he lives?
We fret and ask so many questions -
then when it comes to us
the answer is so simple after all.
A man lives for as long as we carry him inside us,
for as long as we carry the harvest of his dreams,
for as long as we ourselves live,
holding memories in common, a man lives.
His lover will carry his man's scent, his touch:
his children will carry the weight of his love.
One friend will carry his arguements,
another will hum his favourite tunes,
another will still share his terrors.
And the days will pass with baffled faces,
then the weeks, then the months,
then there will be a day when no question is asked,
and the knots of grief will loosen in the stomach
and the puffed faces will calm.
And on that day he will not have ceased
but will have ceased to be separated by death.
How long does a man live after all?
A man lives so may different lengths of time.
A shorter one is this
Though I am dead grieve not for me with tears
Think not of death with sorrowing and fears
I am so near that every tear you shed
Touches and torments me though you think me dead.
But when you sing and laugh in glad delight
My soul is uplifted to the light
Laugh and be glad for all that life is giving
And I, though dead will share your joy in living.
No one knows who wrote Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep, I believe it is supposed to be of American Indian origin.