She died last week, All Saints day, just before church. Into her eighties, hers was a life well lived. I am still humbled by death. Two days earlier I had sat by her side and we talked about final things. Two days hence she had left her shell for other climes. At her side I asked her what she thinks happens after she dies. Its always a little scary asking that question. She took off the breathing mask and said "I believe this is the only life I have to live. Lights out." She had no regrets, after a long life, six children, twelve grandchildren, she knew she would live on through them. We said our good-byes.
Preparing for her Memorial Service I pondered her brave appraisal of the great beyond; "light out", seemed so, well, final. That was her faith and she went bravely forth into the unknown. Regardless of what I believe, the grace of that moment was that her light did go out, at least as far as her body was concerned. But, at the very least, since energy is neither created or destroyed, her light went out only to flicker on somewhere else in the cosmos. We may not ever know heaven, but we can rest in the assurance that the grace of the cosmos returns us to the star stuff from which we came.
With grace and grit, John
