Random Thoughts

Several weeks ago, a young astronomer who couldn't have been more than twenty five years old, gave a presentation here at Saint John's about the current state of astronomy. In other words, what we know but also what we don't know, such as what came before the big bang and what exists beyond our universe and the many others that have been identified. What was the beginning and what is the end? Turns out, no one has any idea. The human mind is limited. We simply can't conceive of a constant continuum that has no beginning, middle or ending. Life just exists, always has and always will in some form or another. Forever.

That thought is both unsettling and also freeing. It's changed my view about birth and death of loved ones. I've thought back to the night our son Ben died. I was there in the moment he drew his last breath and suddenly there was a rush, as if he couldn't get out of his wasted body fast enough. When my mother died, her bird breaths stopped in the bed next to me and I felt her linger for a while, checking on me and my sisters. 

Why am I telling you this very personal story? Because I no longer think of death as a loss. Of course, it is our loss, but not theirs. And when it's a young child or a terrible accident, or a senseless war, our distress becomes overwhelming. But that's all about the living, those of us that remain and need to be cared for by others.  

Rather, it's a new beginning of something beyond our understanding, wonderful and freeing for those who are gone. When I see photos of people I care about on the board here at Saint John's, announcing the years they lived and the day they died, I feel sad for me but not for them. So many struggled with physical limitations and mental anguish. Of course, I will miss their smiles and good wishes, but most of me will celebrate their freedom.