I'm Not Leaving. I'm Only Dying.

 

"Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it." 

~ Haruki Murakami~

 

It's been nearly 8 years since my father died, and until recently, I hadn't shed a tear about it. And while you may find that odd, it may be helpful to know that I speak to and understand my father more now than I ever did when his body was alive. And even though his body is no longer, he is as alive to me now as ever. In fact, more so.

I was at my father's bedside when he transitioned from where he lived then to where he resides now. His entire family was there. But my part was a unique blessing. Not only was I there, but I had my right hand on his shoulder and my left hand on his wrist. I felt his body take its last breath and felt his heart take its last beat. It was at that moment my father became a part of everything. I believe we all are a part of everything even while our bodies are alive, but that's probably a deeper subject for another time.

I didn't cry as he died. I didn't even miss him initially. And before you think me calloused and unfeeling, I often long for the physical form of his voice or the hugs where he didn't want to let go. But, you see (and this is reeeeally important), my father didn't leave. He only died.  Or more accurately, his body died. Our body is a biological, carbon, and star-dust based vessel. It will age and wear out. But we won't.

There is an enormous amount of debate regarding the presence of a "soul" and where it goes when we die. There is scientific evidence now of a soul actually having mass. People making their transition have been weighed right before and immediately after death and the difference in weight is scientifically significant. There are those, of course, who believe our soul travels to a place called heaven (or hell, depending on your interpretation of biblical scripture). 

There was a time not many years ago when I adhered to that same belief system. Oh my gosh, what an incredible burden to bear!! How heartbreaking to think someone you cared for is somehow spending their eternal life in misery because they missed the boat on some religious, man-made notion. It wasn't big enough for me. 

When people learn I'm not a Christian, they often assume I'm an atheist. And while I find that shallow and, to be honest, ignorant, it often leaves me struggling to explain where I do land in the vast arena of spiritual belief.  It's simple. I believe everyone and every THING is part of the same universe. (I could go on for days about the fascinating studies being done in the area of Quantum Mechanics and the possibility of multiple dimensions, but let's just leave it in this dimension for now.) We are, all of us, made of the same thing. Every THING is made of the same material at its core.....energy. Everything vibrates at different frequencies, which is why you move and your kitchen table doesn't, but at our very core, we're the same. 

It's a debate that goes far beyond the typical length of this blog and my attention span, but I'm trying to come full circle to why I didn't find deep sadness when my father died. He's here. Right now. He's here. He's a part of the keyboard where I type. He's part of every tree, blade of grass, and every tool I own that was once his. EVERY. WHERE. 

I can't even begin to tell you the times I struggle with something and ask him right out loud, "You have any input on this, Pops?" I get an answer each and every time. Sometimes it's silence, but my head is instantly filled with his input. Sometimes I can just feel his presence. I can hear him say,
"There's mah buddy!" And sometimes I can hear him say, "Shine the light where I'm working, boy!" Makes me smile every time. 

I don't consider myself all that handy or mechanical, but I've taken on some projects I hadn't the foggiest idea how to complete, and somehow they just fell together. I know that's my dad's hand guiding every nail. I know he's helping with tool selection, and I know it's him telling me when to get help. He's everywhere. And I get so much peace knowing he has "the answers" now. He's pure energy. He's spirit, and he's everywhere. He didn't leave, not for one second.

I hope as I approach my 7th decade and understand more and more about my body's mortality, those that know me and/or love me, know that I don't fear death. My time in this body has been remarkable and I wouldn't feel the slightest bit cheated if it decided to quit today. It happens to us all. Just remember that, no matter what happens to my body, I'm not going anywhere. Or, you might say, I'm going everywhere.

I'm not leaving. I'm only dying

Namaste