There is Life After Death

This I Believe: Essay



Experiencing the death of a loved one has the

power to throw us into the dark abyss of the unknown. There

is nothing more powerful at testing our faith then loss. Questions

about God, the soul and an afterlife begin to arise as our minds

attempt to make sense of what was and what is. I believe there is

an afterlife. I believe that if we pay attention, our loved one's let us

know they are okay.

I began my own personal journey of loss with the death of

my father. He was 55 years old when I was born and it did not take

me long to realize my time with him might be limited. As a thoughtless

and innocent child I remember asking him questions like "Why did you

wait so long to have me?" and "What if you die soon because you are so

old?" He would answer me with "Daddy's live forever." I knew better of

course, but like many of the tall tales he told, there where layers of truth

in his reassuring statement. I believe our impact on this world is

everlasting.

My dad got sick right after my youngest son was born. We lived

next door to him. My mother lived three blocks away. They were just like

an old married couple, only in separate houses. "Happily divorced" my

mom would say. They took each other to doctors appointments and he

would give her chocolate on her birthday or Valentines day. It was fitting

that she would be there till the end.

My mom and I had been at the hospital for two straight days. We

had been told my dad didn't have long. She encouraged me to go home

to my kids and I told her to go home and rest. She was looking ill. We

argued about leaving. She convinced me to go home, shower and feed

my baby. When I got back my sister met me in he lobby and told me my

mom had a heart attack. My dad's response was, "Awe hell Margaret!"



His heart doctor took me into a little private room and told me he couldn't

help my dad, but he thought he could save my mom. The day after

Thanksgiving she had a double bypass. By this time my dad was

comatose and on comfort measures.

After my mom's surgery, I went upstairs to tell him it was okay.

I sat in the cold quite room, hot cup of coffee in hand. My face was

  tear stainedand I was completely exhausted. I whispered that my sister

and I would take care of each other. I told him his mother was waiting for

him and it was okay to go. I would be alright. I didn't think he would

listen, but he looked scared and in pain. Sure enough, the nurse called

me at 12:01 am that night/morning to tell me he was gone. I waited a full

day tell my mom. She was out of it the day before, so I didn't really have

a choice. I said "Daddy's gone," and she told me she knew. My mom

said he had visited her in his favorite blue shirt. He was smiling. I
 
believe he did visit her.

Almost three years later her health had only gotten worse. She

was in the hospital off and on for about a year and the doctors could not

figure out what was wrong with her. Eventually they settled on

encephalopathy, a fancy way of saying her brain was shutting down.

I took my youngest son to the hospital with me. He had just

turned 3. Although my mom was not herself, being near the grand kids

seemed to make her better. He sat on the bed with her and said while

pointing to the empty bed next to her, "that's grandpa's bed." I laughed

out. He had never really been around any grandpa's and I had never heard 

say that word. 

　

　

i believe

I believe in an afterlife. Death is a transformation. In this afterlife I believe that we are reunited with our loved ones. I believe we are also given an opportunity to understand each other, forgive and thank each other. I think in this afterlife we no longer carry our physical bodies and egos, therefore it is much easier to love and relate to one another. Our resources are never in danger of depleting. We no longer have reason to fight. I believe we do hold on to some personality traits and even likes and dislikes. I think in the afterlife we have time to come to a deeper understanding of the physical world, and we chose when we are ready to move  forward. I do not think moving on is the right term, because you keep a place for earthly love in your heart. You never truly leave any loved ones here or there. You are not forced into forgiveness but are allowed a greater understanding of people who have wronged you, therefor forgiveness can happen naturally once you feel compassion for the other persons struggles.

I believe in moving forward, not moving on. People often use the term "moving on" when speaking of getting over something painful. When I think of what those words mean to me, I get a picture in my head of the runway or homeless man from the old cartoons with nothing but a red handkerchief full of measly possessions on stick leaving everything behind. In my life, I do not want to leave everything behind. I feel like moving forward after tragedy allows me to keep the future in mind, the past in my heart, and the present in the present. I do not have to give up anything I am not willing or able to give up. I do not want to leave any of my love or my memories behind. I will not leave the people I have physically lost behind. I think that it is possible to take the love that is still there and make it relevant in the here and now. I love the book we are their heaven, by Allison Debuis. I am not psychic and I am by nature a pretty skeptical person. Maybe certain things claimed by so called psychics could be explained away by body language and general statements. Still, I choose to believe. I miss my son, my mom and my dad so much that I regularly picture them sitting in the empty chairs in the room. I picture them learning or doing the hobbies they loved in life, only it is so much better. There are not physical limits. My son can hang with Micheal Jackson. My mom can run and jump and climb the most beautiful trees. My dad can hug his mom. I believe this because it makes me happy. 

I believe this way because I chose to. It is comforting to me. I also think it is logical and there is some science to back up the idea of a soul.  Specific beliefs on an afterlife are very diverse and are often heavily debated. People usually choose to relate to the beliefs or teachings that are the most comforting and believable to them. Many times we are influenced by our family and culture. I think it would be nice to identify with a group of like minded people. I understand why many enjoy organized religion, but for me, I have not found a specific religion that I identify with. From what I know, which is admittedly just a little, I can relate to different ideas of different religions. 

I think I really like school. It is in a way fun for me. I have put it off for so long and I really love to learn. It is much different then when you chose to learn something just because. I feel challenged. I am also glad to get a break from the whole "homemaker" box. I stayed at home with my kids for about 5 or 6 years. I babysat and I helped take care of my sick mom and my brother too, but it is not the same as getting up with a specific purpose. Eventually, for me, staying at home became lonely, boring and I felt under appreciated. You don't really get thank yous that much for cleaning toilets and doing the dishes and laundry. When you make a home cooked dinner everyday, that also begins to feel less special. I was very thankful for the freedoms being at home allowed me to have. Time with my family being number one. I want to be here. I want to be able to provide them with more financial security of course, but I also want to do this for me. I don't want to waste my mind on daytime tv! So I like learning and I also feel a little interaction with grown ups is great. No poopy diapers!!!YAY. I love that my family are very supportive. They can tell it makes me happy and they try to do a little more around the house and for themselves now, which is great. I feel I am improving my thinking skills.

Fear

There are many many things I am afraid of but my biggest fear is losing the ones I love. I have lost so many people and sometimes I have anxiety about who is next. In 2006 I lost my father to lung cancer. He was 79 and had smoked sense he was 9. Even in the hospital, desperate for  that nicotine fix, he would chew his ciggs. I was totally lost after he died. I never thought, although I had picture it a million times, I was not prepared for the way this loss would shake me to my very soul. During his last hospital stay my mother had a mild heart attack. The day before he died she had a double bypass surgery. My husbands best friend died about a year later. My mother ended up dying 2 1/2 years after my dad. Then my son a year and a half later he had an accident while playing and died. This loss was of course the hardest and I feel as though I am just emerging from the dark abyss of grief. After that my grandmother died, almost a year later, then about a month later my ex died. He died exactly one year after I buried my son. Four months later my husbands aunt died, my uncle died last mothers day and my other significant ex died about a week ago. I have been to so many funerals and you would think it might get a little easier, maybe in a way it does....but not much. 


Sometimes my anxiety can be paralyzing. Sometimes I act kind of crazy. Before my son died I used to have panic attacks in the middle of the night and I would HAVE to check on all of the kids, making sure they were breathing, I made sure the windows were locked, I made sure there was nothing covering the furnace vents and nothing covering their faces. It was so hard knowing that I was acting irrational yet I could not stop myself from fearing the worst. After my oldest son died, my panic attacks stopped. I could for the most part sleep through the night, in fact all I wanted to do was sleep. I had and have a great support system of friends and fam. I love my other two kids so much that they literally were the ONLY reason I got out of bed each day. Although I have lost so many, I have many many more I love and live for. Things are better but people still keep dying. I ask myself why so many when I am so young, then I realize I am really not that young, death is a part of life and the longer I live the more people I will most likely lose. I don't mean for this thought to sound morbid it really is not. It is logical. I remember as a kid going to so many great aunt and uncles funerals. I didn't get it and I wasn't sad for them, I was sad for my grandparents.

I am really not that young, but I am not that old either. I was talking to my daughter last night. We were watching funny youtube videos and somehow we started talking about Shine. He had the funniest sense of humor and an amazing laugh. Eventually we talked a bit about the day he died and my Kayla started crying. I have played that day over and over in my head but only from my perspective. It was very sad to see it from her perspective... and incredibly scary. I say that I am not that old and it is just heartbreaking to realize the pain she and Isaiah have suffered at such a young age. She is only 9 and she shouldn't have to feel this way are have those fears. She asked me if I had ever lost anyone I was super close to at her age. I had never lost anyone from death. I am so glad we had a chance to talk about it. She never likes to feel those feelings but I do think it is helpful to explore and acknowledge the pain she feels. She and Shine were typical brother and sister in many ways..but extremely close. Once when they were arguing and just could not agree I told them how they were each others first friend and they should never forget it. Something changed after that. It was kind of weird because many times when you tell your kids things it does not seem to stick. This time it did. When they were scared at night they would crawl into each others beds and I would find them in the morning with there arms around one another. Shine walked Kayla to class everyday and waited for her after school. Before he died she was the preppy one. He was the mysterious one. He loved wolves and Michael Jackson. He had a sharp sarcastic humor. Shine, out of my three children, was the one I related to the most and he was the one I worried about the most. He was both sensitive and impulsive. Kayla has always been people pleaser. She is a stubborn perfectionist. Isaiah is my friendly fun loving baby. As he gets older I realize he was more like Shine then I had noticed before. I try to avoid comparisons, but sometimes it's hard.

What if

What if I won the lottery

You could visit heaven

There were no speed limits

There was a magic weight loss pill

We changed color in the rain

We were snowed in for 2 months

I could fly

I was telekinetic

I was the fastest runner

Double bacon cheeseburgers were healthy

My husband loved to read

My kids became famous

All clothes were free

If I won the lottery I know I would wait a while to tell everyone. Even my husband. He is the big spender and I would want to make a game plan and set limits and goals before he blew through it all. I have always thought about how nice it would be to not have to worry about money, and I am sure I would be generous with my family and friends (luckily it is a small circle) I know things would change though. I would want to be generous without feeling that those people owe me something, but I bet that would be super hard. If one of my bff's is busy now and doesn't answer when I call I get annoyed. Would I feel entitled to have them on call? I hope not, but what if? What if they cant be happy for me or relate to me anymore because the assume I am not the same or they feel too much envy to be happy for me. Those are the scary things. The happy things are that I feel I have a few great charities I would like to help. I wouldn't want to move, because my sons last breaths were in my home. I would however love to add on. I love houses in general, especially old houses. Would I buy a house on each side of town and spend some time in each. Wasteful maybe, but I am not thinking huge mansions. I would definitely buy my bro one. He is autistic and unable to work, he really struggles. Then my sister is homeless, I would have to buy her one. I also have my bro and sis from my dad, and then Shane has 5 bro-sis. Lots and lots of houses.


What if my brother never lost his house. He lived in my mothers house after she passed. We paid the little mortgage he had each month and he really never had much left to live one. We didn't realize the house had a balloon mortgage and we (or really he) lost it. It was very sad because we only owned about $10000. I am getting off topic. If he had never lost it then he would still be on our good old Burton street. The winters were very cold, the flooring was rotted the roof caving in and there was very little insulation. He would have felt at home still though. Maybe eventually we would have been able to fix it up. If we did he still would have had to walk two miles to the nearest bus stop or I would still be driving him to the grocery store. I would still have a reason to say hi to our old neighbors. It would still be sad I bet. I think in the end his life would be harder because it was in such disarray. I bet my sister who is homeless and somewhat of a moocher would have moved in too.