My oldest brother passed away last year. Being the last of eight children, with brothers and sisters in nearly another generation entirely, it was something I didn’t ever want to have to face.
My brother didn’t want a typical funeral. He wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread around the farm where we were raised.
And so we all got together and did just that. It sure beat the whole funeral home thing, for me at least. We spread his ashes on the spot he requested and then I took what I had left in my little bottle and spread his ashes in my favorite places. What was left after that I took home with me.
It all rolls down hill you know. I didn’t want to see it start. I didn’t want to deal with it. I don’t want to deal with it. I don’t want to see another brother or sister pass on.
Of course I may have a totally selfish reason for that perspective. Sooner or later it’s gonna’ be my turn.
Mortality. Mortality sucks. I’m not sure whose idea it was, but I’m not sure it’s really that great of an idea.
Then again, if you believe there is something beyond this world, then mortality only effects your current state of being or your perspective of it.
Mmmmm. You mean there is something out there that’s bigger than the internet? Interesting concept. Hasn’t the internet existed forever? No? Huh.
I’m pretty sure there must be a master code to this whole thing. I can create websites, pictures and words and videos with nothing but code. Evidently DNA is a genetic code. I wonder who wrote it?
Am I a creationist or evolutionist? Somewhere in between? Do I have a rational, thinking mind? Where did I get it? Nature gave it to me!
So if I got my rational thinking mind from Nature, does it stand to reason that Nature may also have a rational thinking mind?
Matter, so we are told, cannot be created or destroyed. It can only change forms. Mortality then is simply changing forms. Changing code.
OK, I’m feeling better about this whole mortality thing now. It’s all about my perspective.
One of my older sisters told me a story about the whole changing code thing. She didn’t really describe it as a “changing code” thing. It was more of a “what-the-heck just happened?” thing.
She went to the front door one day to let one of her dogs in. When she opened the door her ex-husband was standing there. He greeted her warmly. It seemed so natural and real to her that she never questioned what was going on in that moment. And then he disappeared. He had in fact “changed code” more than a few years prior to his appearance on her porch.
So if I pass on my dear, do not grieve too long and take that grief to heart. For you see, I am not far from our familiar abode. I really haven’t left you. I’ve only changed my code.