Life after death
Life after death
This week, it is 14 years since my mother passed away. No amount of time can ever erase love.
The last few weeks I was fortunate to have wonderful conversations with my mother. Wise beyond her years and taken away from this life way to early.
She was peaceful. Her beliefs made her last days peaceful. An acceptance of the unknown. She did not fear death. She feared for us, the ones that got left behind. She understood the pain of loss, the emotions of guilt of things not voiced.
She had time. We had time. Time is something our modern generation seem to not have enough of- until we are faced with death or loss.
Spending time with Jean made me realise the importance of time and how we spend it. A lady of formidable ability and courage. A lady who met and lost her love way to early. A lady who changed the landscape of a social structure through her courage and tenacity. But most of all, a lady who loved with all her heart and soul.
Her words of wisdom in the early hours of the morning while we sit in front of the fire- what is the purpose of it all? When we die, we just rot in the ground.
She has given up of faith, love and a bit of life when Jack passed away. She thinks about life after death and ask for an answer from me.
All I can think of to share it the story of birth and the belief that our soul survives this world to be a spirit for the future. Holding my son for the first time made me realise how much we do not understand.
There is no answer. There is no proof. There is only a belief that our being is not insignificant and that there is a purpose to life and death. Even if it is only for our soul to learn and grow in this lifetime.
I look at her and say- the difference between you and me is simply this- I wear my heart on my sleeve, you wrapped yours away for way to long but you cannot hide your heart from me.
A tear escapes her eye, run down her cheek. We look ahead into the fire and the silence comfortable.
This week, it is 14 years since my mother passed away. No amount of time can ever erase love.
The last few weeks I was fortunate to have wonderful conversations with my mother. Wise beyond her years and taken away from this life way to early.
She was peaceful. Her beliefs made her last days peaceful. An acceptance of the unknown. She did not fear death. She feared for us, the ones that got left behind. She understood the pain of loss, the emotions of guilt of things not voiced.
She had time. We had time. Time is something our modern generation seem to not have enough of- until we are faced with death or loss.
Spending time with Jean made me realise the importance of time and how we spend it. A lady of formidable ability and courage. A lady who met and lost her love way to early. A lady who changed the landscape of a social structure through her courage and tenacity. But most of all, a lady who loved with all her heart and soul.
Her words of wisdom in the early hours of the morning while we sit in front of the fire- what is the purpose of it all? When we die, we just rot in the ground.
She has given up of faith, love and a bit of life when Jack passed away. She thinks about life after death and ask for an answer from me.
All I can think of to share it the story of birth and the belief that our soul survives this world to be a spirit for the future. Holding my son for the first time made me realise how much we do not understand.
There is no answer. There is no proof. There is only a belief that our being is not insignificant and that there is a purpose to life and death. Even if it is only for our soul to learn and grow in this lifetime.
I look at her and say- the difference between you and me is simply this- I wear my heart on my sleeve, you wrapped yours away for way to long but you cannot hide your heart from me.
A tear escapes her eye, run down her cheek. We look ahead into the fire and the silence comfortable.
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