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I am not there, I did not die

Today my heart is heavy.  People I love are in pain.  They are facing something I have faced but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch it unfold.  Their pain is palpable.  I’m reminded of my parents, knowing what my friends will face in the near future.

I do not know why my parents are dead.  I do not know why my neighbor’s mother is dying as we speak from ALS.  

I do know that we all have a time that we leave this earth for the afterlife, when our souls leave the confines of our human shape.  I know that there is a God, because I see his hand in this Earth and our bodies, and feel him with me.

But what decides our time, and why that time is chosen, that’s my question and I think source of discomfort.  It’s too easy to say the good die young, I’m sure there are plenty of nasty people that die every day.  But to us, when we lose someone we love, and worse yet, watch them waste away and die, it only seems that the good die young.  We are deprived of their presence, at least bodily, for the rest of our lives.  I believe those you love are with you long after they move beyond.  But we can’t call them, or share birthdays and holidays with them.  We can’t hug them.

When I get to heaven I hope that my heart will be put at ease.  I hope that I will understand why my parents are gone, and why Becky is gone.  And if I don’t attain the understanding than I hope that I am put at peace in another way.  I believe that we will reunite with our loved ones.  Maybe not in earthly bodies on a cloud with wings, but on some level we will feel their soul with ours.
In the meantime this brings me solace.

Dedicated to Becky F., RIP sweet lady
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 diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932

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