The book covers both caring for the terminally ill and the 'actual' bereavement, thus providing guidance on the whole process of counselling patients and their families.

Case studies include examples from cancer, AIDS, suicide , murder and fatal accidents. Problems counsellors may face in their work are discussed and a chapter is devoted to the needs of the counsellor themselves.
 

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Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.

 
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush.
I am in the graceful rush of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the star shine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom; I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing; I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.

Click here to see a video rendition of this funeral poem.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, He passed Us,
The Dews drew quivering and chill;
For only Gossamer, my Gown,
My Tippet, only Tulle.

We paused before a House that seemed,
A Swelling of the Ground;
The Roof was scarcely visible,
The Cornice, in the Ground.

Since then, 'tis Centuries, and yet
Feels shorter than the Day;
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled
as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

To the Living, I am gone,
To the sorrowful, I will never return;
To the angry, I was cheated.
But to the happy, I am at peace.
To the faithful, I have never left.
Talk to me, and I will hear,
your prayers, they comfort me,
your laughter makes me laugh,
but don’t weep for me as I have my reward,
I am with the Father and will never let me perish,
The Lord comforts me, and longs to comfort you.
So be happy my family and don’t despair,
I am in good hands, waiting for the day when
the Lord calls you to come home.

  Click here for a video rendition of this funeral poem

Click here to download this video as a screen saver

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.