Author Archives: blaak sheep

So much joy on a birthday, the celebration of a new life, to be met with so much sadness on a death day, the mourning of the end of life, all on the same day. Someone close to me died today, my birthday. Notice birthday is one word, and death day is two. The two words are separated by a space, just like death separates us from our loved one. People say death only separates us physically, that they are just in the next room, waiting for us. But are they? Do we really know?

There are many theories and beliefs about what happens to us after death. Heaven, hell, reincarnation to name a few. There is a new quantum physics theory that death is just an illusion. To quote the article: “We believe in death because we’ve been taught we die. Our association with our body is so strong that when we “die’ we assume that both our body and consciousness also shut off. Yet biocentrism, a new theory of everything, is suggesting that death is not the end like we think. We have the power to change our brain circuits with new associations, like learning that fire is hot by touching it. This shows that what we see would not be perceived without our consciousness.” The article goes on to say that what we see in the physical realm is not everything, it’s just what our consciousness sees, and there could be a lot more out there waiting for us.

Some people choose to call a funeral a celebration of life. Pictures are posted of joyous times. We only want to remember the happy times and not be sad.

But this person has vanished from the physical realm. How can we NOT be sad? We won’t see them again, and don’t know for sure if we ever will.

Those of faith would disagree with me.

But I am not a member of a faith.

My mother passed away 18 years ago. I have seen her alive in my dreams. I often dream she didn’t really die, she came back to life in the hospital somehow, that the funeral was hoax, and we as a family are keeping her all to ourselves, and we have to eventually tell everyone that she is indeed alive.

What does that mean?

Is it just my brain, or my consciousness trying to make sense of her loss, or is she really around somewhere? To quote the above article once more: “After all death, just like our consciousness, is just energy, and energy can’t be created or destroyed, this is a law of physics.”

I don’t think we are physically qualified to be able to grasp the concept of death. It happens, it is part of life, people come and people go. We can’t change that. We must move on with our own lives and not focus on their departure.

We all have our own belief systems of what happens after death. The trick is to keep breathing every day is if it were our last, because the candle of our life could be blown out at any second, even right after birth, on our birthday.

I remain hopeful though, that it all does continue on after death, that we move on somewhere, somehow. It would be such a waste if it didn’t.

You come visit me in my dreams, in that big, old house. Not the first one, but the second one that was shaped like a barn, you cooking dinner and sipping wine; me making salad and setting the table for eight in the kitchen, after which I sit in front of a roaring fire, settling down with a good book while the boys play chess on lamp lit couches. Then, it’s Christmas time, and we are fussing over decorating the house perfectly, fresh cedar garland with holly berries wrapped around the deep wooden staircase railing, making sure there are just enough presents for everyone. While we wait for them to arrive, a snowy backdrop hovers outside the glittering window panes. You appear in the hallway that has golf green felt carpet on its floor, your whole body shimmering like a jellyfish in an aquarium, and your sister stands beside you with the same smile as you, one that is brighter than the white lights that rest on the mantle. Even though life brought you a lot of pain, you are always happy in my dreams, which comforts me. It could be the end of the world, but I am safe, and will always be.

They poke holes

in your cheeks

each time you smile

they make other people smile

in return

With a straight face

your skin is normally taut and rigid

but then you smile

even if it’s fake

and they light up your face

like magic

diamonds

in the rough

of sadness

one guy came up to me at the ferry terminal

he said, “You know, dimples are hot!”

You illuminate

even when you’re not trying

If you have them,

you know you do

use them

to make everyone happy

even if you only receive a smirk

a giggle

At least it’s better than tears

Hands grasping

in mid air

gripping nothing

except pain

that comes from within

from your ancestors

from yourself

you were born into it

unable to escape

On this day

I remember you

writhing

the still, deep ponds of your eyes

looking away

into a distant, unknown place

searching

you let go

finally

to find that place

eloping

where you can truly live

without pain

I can’t understand it

but I get it

now that you

are gone

into the ocean

scattered

the rain whips you away

into my dreams

where you remain

forever

The past few days I’ve been feeling a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach, like someone just died.

Grief has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. You think you’re fine and all is well, and then bam, it is like liquid cement being siphoned into your veins. You have to accept it as part of your life, not fight it, and roll with the waves that crash onto the shore of your being. Let the water trickle and flow over your skin and limbs, stirring the weight into your soul to become who you are now.

When she left me that day, a part of her became a leaden force inside me. Some days it wears me down, when it first hits me, like lifting weights and feeling the pain in your muscles, but then after while it builds me up and makes me powerful, bolder, braver, nourishing me.

I surround myself with things that remind me of her: pink carnations, strawberries on toast, classical music playing on the radio, a book on a rainy day – these are things which bring me comfort and live out her legacy, which is what grief is meant to do – to carry you.

Grief has a way of benefiting if you let it; it is not a burden, but rather a gift, the gift of the gratitude of life. It reminds me that she loves me.