I read today; an idea.
What if THIS is heaven?
I thought about this briefly and my first instinct was to panic a bit about how little time I may have here... and also the thought of - "then what"?
The question came from a book I've been reading about positive thought. The author was thinking aloud about the idea that life is what you make it.
Which I find refreshing considering the source. The author from what I understand is a preacher from a Christian Church in the United States. And I felt comforted, I suppose, that even someone with a strong belief system still questions the 'hear after'; and basically suggests "you better make this life really great, cause this could be all you have".
I've had a difficult time being positive since losing Reece. It certainly would be difficult for me to accept that this life I have had, has been my self-created version of heaven.
As far as I'm concerned, the past couple years have held more heart ache and pain then any version of hell I'd ever imagined.
After thinking a bit more I called my mother-in-law to come sit with the kids while I went to sit with Reece at the cemetery.
It's the most beautiful day.
Sunny, breezy and clear.
Her cemetery is the ultimate 'prairie experience'- a wide open expanse, defined by a hedge and surrounded by farmland. Nothing but blue sky going on and on forever.
There are a dozen or so pink roses in her vase on the monument. They all hang their head. As if they too feel as gutted and empty as I do in that moment.
When I first sat down (after first feeling offended by the state of the grass and large dandilions gone to seed) I intended on writing.
But instead I placed some small bright-yellow daisy-like flowers in with the sad pink roses.
A stark contrast.
The symbolism was not lost on me.
Reece was the sun in my life.
I cried and for the first time since I was a child I spoke to 'God'. I asked for a sign. Something tangible.
Some way of knowing that I'll see her again.
That 'this' isn't IT.
My thoughts turned immediately to Gabby and I thought perhaps that, that is my only sign. Maybe the sign that things will get better is that I am still here, despite my many pleas for God to take me too; so I could be with her.
I am still here and therefore, I must make it better myself.
Now, as I type this a few weeks removed from when I wrote it originally, I'm left to still wonder, what if this is it- I'm empowered now to make 'THIS" better but have not given up the small hope that there is something after this world.
