Pondering

While discussing the death of grandpa we started discussing heaven.  Colin did not think it could be heaven if you are taken away from all the people you care about.  I responded that he can still see us, he didn't lose us, we lost him.  Then Colin asked a another very good question of  "How can it be heaven when you see all the people you love suffering so?"  I think he makes an excellent point.  I couldn't answer that at the time.  As I thought more about it I imagine its like many little hurts we see our children deal with daily.  The stubbed toe, the screams because its time to wash your hair, I don't want to go to bed.  These things that seem so important and so wrong.  Please don't make me wash my hair, please.  The pleas are real.  This child feels his world is closing in on him.  He does not understand. But we know everything will be alright.  We know he isn't going to drown, the water won't burn, there is no harm or danger here.  The fear and pain is created by himself and his own perceptions and desires.  We feel for our child when they are so worked up, but we know that things are fine and we don't share their pain or fear.  I wonder if its similar when a loved one dies.  They still have a connection to us.  They know everything is fine.  They know we have nothing to fear.  They feel for us, but they have a different perspective.  They know there hasn't been a loss. They understand what we don't.

Obviously I don't know, I haven't died.  Nor has anyone that talks back to me.  But Colin is right, how can it be heaven when you see all these people suffering because you are gone.  As a mother I would hate to cause that kind of pain on my family.  Of course I want to be missed.  We all want to think we bring something to this world and our leaving it will be noticed (as a bad thing).  But I don't want to cause suffering.  Some of our suffering with dad is his youth.  While not a child, 64 is barely past middle age.  It was so unexpected, there has been no time to get used to this idea.  When my grandfather died 7 years ago I was able to talk to him before he died.  He was ready to die.  He was tired.  He lived a good life and was ready for the rest he deserved.  While I didn't like the words I was hearing while we were talking, they have been very comforting in the time since.  He had come to terms with his time here on earth.  He was ready for the next journey.  He had raised his children.  Met his grandchildren, and even met some of his great-grandchildren.  He was 85 years old in a body that could not keep up with him anymore.  His bags were packed and he had bought his ticket, he was just waiting for the train now.  While there were many tears at my grandpa's funeral, I don't think there was as much denial.  Or the feeling that we had been robbed.

With dad we feel robbed.  We feel so vulnerable. Our Dad, Husband, and Grandfather has been snatched from us.  We were not ready to let him go.  He and his wife were discussing a 65th birthday party.  My youngest will not remember her grandpa, not even sure my 4 year old will. Sara never felt she needed to rush so her kids would know her dad.  And if we feel robbed, does he?  That is what Colin was getting at.  How can it be heaven when you aren't ready to die?  Sure I would love to go to Hawaii.  But if someone pulled up and threw me in a car and then flew me to Hawaii, even if it were free, I would not be happy.  I'd be worried about my family.  How could I get word to them that I'm alright?  How could I enjoy myself knowing, (or not knowing ) my family is suffering?

So I have to deal with this somehow.  And all I can come up with is he knows how we are and he can see things from a different perspective.  He knows we will be alright.  He knows we can make it through.  He knows we are strong enough.  He knows in the big scheme of things all we are being expected to do is wash our hair.  I guess I understand why Tin prefers his hair dirty.