What if death wasn’t real?  That would be a real joke on us, wouldn’t it? 

But it seems so real.  Imagining if you’re a caregiver for a dear woman for years whose body slowly solidifies into a grotesque statue and the light in her eyes dims forever.  How would you handle a brother who has fought off cancer for years and is now told that it has invaded his body and there is no further alternatives to stave off it’s hunger?  And what if one morning out of the blue your mother is rushed to the hospital half a continent away and you find out on a flight stopover that she has disappeared, died, gone?  Can you picture the pain and frustration to be near a dying violent father who has always used control, dominance and fear and watch as his screams falter in his decaying body.

Dear ones.  No matter the illusion of here and now, what is around the corner out of sight seems scary.  You are safe.  You are always safe.  Whatever beliefs we have to keep us going into the dark jungle of the “end”, we hold hands and pray for wings.  It is certain that our path home is guaranteed.  Every bit of nature confirms the truth of goodness, beauty and circulation.  All energy survives.  Love is the strongest force in the universe.  If we see with the eyes of love, the path, the companionship and the grace will be clear.

“And tears,” my mother said from beyond her grave, “is the way humans show love.”