When I woke up this morning, I noticed my hand was laying across my husband's as if we were sleeping holding hands. It made me smile.
It got me thinking about the fact that I will (hopefully) get to grow old with this guy. One day we will both be so brittle and wrinkled, it is really a sweet idea. (Does that sound twisted??)
With that idea comes the realization that one of us will have to say goodbye first. It's true. Unless of course, there was a tragedy and we were both involved. (Eek)
It is hard to think about, to discuss, to even comprehend - but yes, one day, I.will.die.
Now, I do believe in God. However, I am not sure what this "heaven" looks like - or if it is even a portion of what we were told. We don't know, no one knows. Perhaps peace is the eternal sleep? It is definitely the great unknown, and I am not naive enough to think otherwise.
Will I be dressed in white, floating around playing a harp and crossing marble steps to take a nap on a billowy cloud? I seriously doubt it. I have no idea. What I do know - is the idea of it scares the crap out of me. Not the heaven part - the actual great unknown part.
As I looked at my father and mother this last weekend, I was beginning to see their age. Tic Toc Tic Toc. As a child, I only knew my grandparent's as elderly. It's odd seeing someone that in my memory is supposed to be young and strong grow older.
My father was diagnosed last week with a leaky heart valve. Just so you know, he is also an extreme diabetic. (My word) I look at him and I can see the scared little boy inside. What type of fear could he be facing? He will be 65 in February.. is he thinking to himself - 'Oh no, I might have a good 10 years left in me?'
Think about it - 10 years? What if that is all the time we had left. For some of us, we may not have 10 days - we just don't know. That's a frightening thought.
I am not trying to make any of you uncomfortable, but I am just expressing what - yet again - we are all a little hesitant to even consider. Something like - our last breathe. Will I be asleep? Will I be home alone? How will people find me? It totally freaks me out.
Will it hurt? Will I fight? Will I get to experience all of the adventures I planned? Will I get to apologize to all of those people I hurt with my words or actions? Did I accomplish all I was supposed to? Will anyone bother to show up at my funeral?
The scariest of all.. in the end.. will there be nothing?
I can't accept that one. I have to believe there is something else out there.
I am now 37 - and every morning I wake up I notice my muscles are a little tighter, my bones creak a little more, the tiny lines on my forehead begin to stand out more, the grays in my hair pop up more frequently between touch ups... it's happening - the aging process.
I get it. But how do we get to that point where we are comfortable with leaving this world behind? Regardless of what we believe about an afterlife - the process of the grande exit terrifies me. If I truly believe in catholic dogma - have I done all I need to do to get into "heaven?"
Dare I ask you - do you even allow yourself to contemplate this great mystery?