I do not fear death.
Yet, death dogs my heels. Of course, since Death is the final outcome of life.
I used to believe in eternal life: the notion that I would return after death and forever live on a refurbished planet, watched over by a benevolent God.
I am not sure what I believe anymore. But this I know … I will indeed live forever as part of the energy of the universe. I do not know, if like a ghost, I will be able to communicate with my loved ones. I do not know, if I will be even “concious” of that which is beyond me.
I lived through and beyond a horrendous car crash. That crash and the ensuing recovery changed me forever. I do not fear death.
Maybe in my coma I visited Death’s Kingdom. I do not know. For I remember nothing of my time in ICU.
I only know that after, or sometime during, my 2 months in hospital I do not fear death.
Yet, I am so smitten with grief at the passing of 2 people in my circles: one, who I never met, except he was obviously in love with my favourite cousin as she was with him; and, two, my good friend Sylvia Rae, 29 years a part of my life.
If I do not fear death. Why the grief?
I guess because I greedily want them still in my life.
But, I know eventually I will think of them without it hurting so god damn much.
OH! And, Cousin Kenny I am still looking for the answer to the question you asked me on your death bed. I think of you often and qoute your sarcastic epigrams.
