Death. In a modern world, we overlook it, we mask it, deny it, gloss over it... with a sound byte attitude of "oh that's unfortunate" as we move onto the next part of our day. Until it strikes us close to home, until a loved one falls ill, and of course then it becomes tragic. The world around us loses on average 40,000 people a day from starvation, with thousands more dying from war, or accidents. We lose friends, loved ones, women, men, children and parents. The people around us are taken for granted, and only when they're gone, or on their way to the other side, do we begin to regret the lack of time we've spent with them, or perhaps cherish the fond memories.
My family is now undergoing such a transition, as our Aunt has fallen ill with terminal cancer. She lies there in her bed, barely functional... moving her body just a few degrees to her side is a struggle. Frail, and a shell of her once strong and independent former self. She lies there with a machine pumping air into her now collapsed lungs, as those around her stare awkwardly... silently with saddened eyes. "She did this to herself" or "We knew she was sick... we just didn't know how bad it was" are the comments that are exchanged. It's here that we sit and wait for something to happen... perhaps a doctor... or nurse will arrive with some positive news, something to lift her spirit, and ours. But they do not come, as it's terminal, and the treatment she's receiving now is purely for show, and comfort, as the hospital does what it can to make the transition easier.
Why is it now, only now, in these times of pain and loss that we see our brothers and sisters for who they really are? The jealousy is gone, the egos are lessened, and the thoughts are only of remorse, sadness and regret for the one who lies before us. We do little to see our brothers for who they are unless and until their very existence is threatened. It is in these times that life itself is pondered... where does she go from here? What do we do now when there's no Zia Vicki (Aunt Vicki) to talk to? The woman, despite her faults has always been there when we needed her. Whether we needed her or not, she'd drop everything to help. She'd offer advice, provide you with support, and connect you with the right people at the right time. She is loved, and will be missed in her current form.
I often ponder this, especially now as I see my mother gripping and massaging her sister's hands with a loving caress, providing what little comfort she can... just to be able to touch her. I often ponder how will I be in this situation, as I see others around me crying, and I've yet to shed a tear. My beliefs in the universe and what life itself is about are contrary to the illusion that I see before me. Others see a dying woman, and I see a transition about to occur. Some regret that they haven't spent time with her, and I recall the beauty and love that we shared. Some ponder their own mortality in the face of age and disease, and I see the cycle of life unfold, as we approach the end of our dream.
When we awake from our sleep, and our dreams come to an end... do we mourn them? As real as they are as we experience them, do we mourn the loss of those we see in our sleep state, or do we merely reflect on the experience, and move on. My belief is that this life too... is a dream. And when we awake from this dream, to our true reality as fully functional beings with full lives on the other side, we regret nothing. We ponder our experience, and move on. Perhaps we decide to come back, and perhaps we don't. Perhaps we come back to help those who still do not remember that they are in fact dreaming, so we can be apart of their remembrance, and strengthen our own. So too will my Zia Vicki awaken from her dream as she transitions to the other side, and waiting there will be her husband who has prepared a home for them both, with their beloved animals, other friends and loved ones awaiting her return. Her life here has been difficult, and her clinging to her own past has produced much guilt, and so she has brought upon the cancer which now ravages her form. This too, the dreamer can heal, but only if the belief is strong enough to support the change. I hope she has that strength, but realistically she seems more ready to move on from this tired form, and awaken to the truth that lies beyond this world.
She is loved... very deeply loved by us all, and we will miss her form as Vicki, but I rejoice in the knowing that she will now reassemble and once again recall who she really is, and finally be that... after a life time of experiencing what she is not. Will she regret? I believe she will not, for what regret can exist in a world of pure love? She chose this experience for a reason, and that reason is known to her higher self alone, so what right do we have to judge her or speculate either way?
This is why I do not shed a tear right now, because the truth is freeing. The truth is there for those who choose to see it... she is eternal, as are we all. This brief interlude as personalities here on earth are but a drop of water into an ocean of experience, and we will be as detached from our own passing, as we are with the 50,000 others who move on per day. But of course, we never truly mourn for the person, but for ourselves, and the loss we experience in their absence... so this is why we truly cry... not for them, but for us.
So when the time comes for me to move on, I pray that my transition is quick, and celebrated. That my favourite music is playing, and those who have witnessed my life are there to rejoice in how we've made such beautiful music together. And for those whom I am honoured to befriend, always know that you are loved, and I will always be with you through all the days of your life, until you too have come home.
In honour of you, Zia Vicki. May your home always bloom with Orchids, and your heart fill with the peace of God. We love you now, and always will.
Your honoured nephew,
Robert
No comments:
Post a Comment