Mortality

So here's my very first post.  Ever.

I feel that I should be posting something about myself, or life.  Maybe even something profound.

But I've decided that I am going to make this my personal diary.  It may  bore you to death, but I need to get all the thoughts out of my head at night so that I have the ability to lay my head down and fall asleep every night.

So, here's how today started: A funeral.  For a beautiful woman named Judith.  Let me begin by saying I am not good at funerals.  They make me cry, no matter if I know the person well or not.  I always feel that said person has gotten the carpet pulled from under them.  I know that in this case, she lived a beautiful sixty-nine years.  But it still feels too soon.  

One of the things my mother said to me today was that she wished she had known that things weren't going so well for Judith, so that she could have had at least one visit with her.  I guess I should state that even though I am speaking of Judith as though we were best friends, I only met her maybe 3 times.  I wish that too.  I wish I could have told Judith about my life, and that she could have given me wisdom and advice before she departed.  I wish that I could have known what was on her mind minutes before she passed.  When did she know she was going? What did it look like?  Was she scared?  Did an angel come to her and tell her it was going to be okay, and that it wouldn't hurt?  We all feel differently about death.  Some people believe it's just black emptiness.  We just cease to exist.  Some believe in purgatory, hell, and heaven.  Some probably haven't even thought about it.  I do... but only after finding out someone passed, and after a funeral.  It takes me a few days to get out of a funk after a funeral.  I believe in heaven and hell.  I believe in angels and God.  I always feel that whoever it is that has passed, comes by my home before they leave.  It feels like they spend the day with me.  That they are present.  Almost as if to give me some peace about saying goodbye?  Even though I barely know them at all.  It is the strangest feeling.  It even drives me to stay clothed and be very self conscious in the bathroom.  I know, I know, it all sounds terribly crazy.  But that's how I get.  I even feel like right now Judith may be reading this blog.  Strange.

I believe It was my husband that I was talking to the other day about death.  God created us without the intention of death.  We were created to live forever with God here on earth.  Then of course Eve and the apple happened.  But even when death was introduced to the human race, Genesis talks about many people living up to a thousand years!  So doesn't it make sense that even at sixty-nine, which is considered "old" to some, we would feel robbed?  I think about my grandmother Gwen often.  I made her promise me when I was a little girl that when she died, she had to come visit me.  In my dreams and otherwise.  She promised that she would come visit me and tell me what it was like in Heaven.  What it was like to die.  I still cry when I think about the day that she passed.  It was so strange, because when you lose a loved one, it seems that the world around you should stop, and pay it's respects.  But the world is a bitter and strange place.  Without kind words, or even unspoken apologies the world seems even more cruel.

My mom (this is going to be typed quite often, so if it bothers you, get over it.) said that after she lost her father and subsequently her mother, she felt like an orphan.  She rhetorically pondered whether or not that would have been the case had they lived to be a ripe 85 or 90.  But I tend to feel at this point in my life that is not the case.  I don't know if I will ever be okay with the idea of losing my mother.  She rights me when I'm wrong.  She is always looking out for my best interest.  Even when she annoys me with her honesty, I still love her.  She will always be my better half.  My David in the battle against Goliath.  She's always rooting for me.  Attempting to inspire me.  I can't imagine how exhausting it would be trying to encourage me.  I would've given up on me if it weren't for her.  What will I do?  My son is already trying my patience.  Making me sweat and cry with worry.  How did my mother have five children and survive it?  Good God in heaven please have mercy on me.  I'm am trying, but sometimes it seems like it's for nothing.  Sometimes I get so worried that I'm not going to do it well enough.  But I suppose in this world we're just trying to do the best we can.. Make sense of what we can.  It's all we can do right?  

Pray and hope we're doing okay? Oh the thoughts that race through my head throughout the day.  It would boggle anyone's mind.  "On a scale of 1-10 God, how am I doing?".. no answer.  "What about in general, am I better than Suzie?".. no answer.  "Okay okay, I relent.  Maybe I shouldn't even be asking?".. no answer.  "Okay I have a better question, maybe more neutral, am I always going to be fat?".. no answer.  "Darn shmarn.  Dear God, I just want some help. In every area.  Am I too conceited to be a skinny person?" .. no answer.  Sometimes after these inner monologues/ my talks with God, I come to some profound conclusions. Sometimes I think those profound conclusions are Gods way of answering my inane and unrelenting questions.  Sometimes I think it's just my subconscious trying to shut me up to make room for breath.  But these are all questions that will have to be answered another night.  Because here I am at 11:24pm needing sleep.  But not wanting to stop and lay down.  My poor, kind husband.  Happy to let me listen to my music, blog and then come to bed at a late hour.  Even when he has to get up at 4:00am.  My son is coughing.  A hacking cold in his room.  I will lay down now, praying desperately that he is able to sleep, and be healed.  I'll wonder if God heard me, and if he may shed some light on what to do, or what I'm doing wrong.  And then out of nowhere, in the middle of a thought I'll be thrown into some absurd dream.

Goodnight Life.  Goodnight crazy.  See you tomorrow morning more than likely at the first sign of light.

Memory Eternal Judith.  May you rest in eternal peace and solitude.  May you fly through the clouds and laugh at the silly things we worry about here on earth.  May you have all your questions answered up there, wherever there may be.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me.
The Carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality
~Emily Dickinson

In loving memory of Judith, may your legacy live on forever through the hearts of your loved ones.