We are born to die. Seriously. We forget that all things rise, flourish, blossom, and then slowly fade. I am very aware of my age and the life expectancy, and genetics, and conditions. Suddenly little things in life may come more priceless or more mundane. We do not have time for chaos, for drama and we seek peace, gentleness, and fondness.
The Death of the Flowers - by William Cullen Bryant
The melancholy days have come the saddest of the year
Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sere;
Heaped in the hollows of the grove the autumn leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust and to the rabbit's tread;
The robin and the
wren are flown and from the shrubs the jay
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.
Where are the flowers the fair young flowers that lately sprang and stood
In brighter light and softer airs a beauteous sisterhood?
Alas! they all are in their graves the gentle race of flowers
Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of ours.
The rain is
falling where they lie but the cold November rain
Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
The wind-flower and the violet they perished long ago
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow;
But on the hill the goldenrod and the aster in the wood
And the blue
sunflower by the brook in autumn beauty stood
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven as falls the plague on men
And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland glade and glen.
And now when comes the calm mild day as still such days will come
To call the
squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard though all the trees are still
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill
The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died
The fair meek
blossom that grew up and faded by my side.
In the cold moist earth we laid her when the forests cast the leaf
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief:
Yet not unmeet it
was that one like that young friend of ours
So gentle and so beautiful should perish with the flowers.
So like the flowers are we. We come bursting into life and live like there is no tomorrow until we realize there truly could be no more tomorrows. Life becomes more serious. We more easily surrender to the cycle of life and going into that long long sleep. I wrestled with where we went after death. I knew that it is thought to be a long sleep, not an immediate approach to some pearly gates or and at a savior’s feet. It feels like a Santa Claus story to me, but whatever it takes for some to bear it, then let them have that belief. Whatever gives survivors the most comfort, so be it. But, I do believe we go to a long sleep and then I have a sense that we do some work that needs repair from what we did on earth, to make things right, then move into a spiritual journey. I have no script, no testament, no fire and brimstone conditioning. I simply believe we would need a good long rest after all this. To repair body, mind, heart and soul has to happen. I have a sense that we may go on to another lifetime somewhere, and may be able to visit our loved ones. I do not believe in Hell or the devil. I know there is a type of consciousness before we step into whatever comes next. I have experienced that beautiful peace. If you have read my book or have read my blog for these years, you will know about my life after death experience. That changed my perspective on death and life in incredible ways. I do not know if we do a disservice to persuade others in what comes next. I believe it has to be individualized, it has to be whatever brings others comfort in grief. Losing my soulmate changed my knowing in others ways, as well. We do have visitations. Again, those of you who know me well, know my experience with my soulmate and the many feathers that have literally dropped out of the sky. August 27th comes around every year and, no matter the passage of time, the grief is as sharp as it ever was, especially at this time. I have learned to be quiet during the preceding and following days to the 27th of August. It is a sacred time for me. It is a time I never want to have to live through again, ever. I am not trying to skid on the brakes to any aging of mine. I am grateful that life expectancy says I do not have to wait too long any more. I do not feel like a lamb being led to a slaughter. I just want to make sure that I become more and more peaceful so that I do not have a whole lot of work to do before the next journey.
What do you believe about life after death.? I am interested. None of us is either right or wrong. We seriously do not know. But what is a belief that you hold that would/does make it easier to bear?
©Carol Desjarlais 8.24.24
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