Monday, February 17, 2020

Grief and Loss - Reaching Out

It's always hard when one goes ahead on a road you can't follow. It's always hard to lose an anchor, a loved one, a friend and confidant. It's an unexpected emptiness when turning a corner and not seeing the person you expected, when wanting to ask a question, or to share good news. It's an emptiness that never truly gets filled. It's the death of someone beloved, and this happened to two members of my extended family - on and off line - this past week. 




Near death experiences often mention a long tunnel
lighted at the far end. I'd probably be looking for the
graffiti, but that light is rather mesmerizing, isn't it. 



In my own family, we lost a cousin, a father of two. It's on my sister-in-law's husband's side of the family, so a distant cousin by marriage, and I can't say if I ever met the man, but my nieces and nephews knew him and know his wife and children. The memorial is scheduled for today with the funeral scheduled for Wednesday. This death was hard because he killed himself and that will leave lots of questions behind for his immediate family; questions about what clues they missed, what they might have been able to do, and a lot of second guessing. It's tough to lose a family member that way. It seems to add extra sting to death's grip. 




Maybe we move through the clouds into a type of
vortex. A force of nature on an supernatural plane. 



In my on-line family, a dear and long-time friend lost her mother over the weekend. In this case there was an illness as well as a respectable age, but it's still not going to be easy for those who are left behind. My heart goes out to her daughter and son who will be missing her presence. 




This tunnel exhibits a nice Fibonacchi curve in it, the curve
that exists throughout nature in almost every living thing. 



It's an odd thing about death. It occurs around us every day - plants, animals and people are always being born and dying. It's common. But it also is the Great Mystery - that journey that continues onward without signposts or road maps. Many people believe that you meet again with loved ones and move into a condominium in the clouds. It's that old "My Father has many houses" message and I'm sure that celestial property values are determined on piety and proximity to the Big Dude. But that's totally NOT my thing. 




If I'm going to consider tunnels and star-shine, I'm going to go
with dimensional tunnels to the stars. We are all made from
stardust and powered by energy and light. If we believe Einstein,
matter is neither created nor destroyed, it merely changes form. 



On the other hand, when you think about those words, "My Father has many houses", and consider that we are all light, energy and stardust, perhaps they do make sense after all. We are members of the cosmos and matter is neither created nor destroyed, it merely changes form. Matter can become light, and light can be starlight, moving into the universe and joining with light from billions of stars throughout the void. Here, there are indeed 'many houses' and lots of room since the universe is expanding. 




In the end, how will you be remembered by those you
leave behind? If you will be remembered with love, then
you will have lived a successful life. 



So, to wind down, do we meet our loved ones again? Will we recognize them if we do? I suppose it's possible, I certainly can't discount that possibility. But to be a mote of light in a universe of stars? That will be heaven for me and I will ride the solar winds and play in the galactic clouds. 

On that note, I'm moving along. DH's Valentine's celebratory meals put four pounds on me so it's back to the gym for a serious workout today. LOL Have a good Monday and I'll return tomorrow. 



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