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In the Sweet By and By

Eric’s grandmother’s funeral was today. It was actually quite a lovely service, but I do struggle with the experience of being an outsider from a religious standpoint. The family isn’t overly religious, including the dearly departed, but ministers will talk quite a bit about Jesus if you let them.

I think the part that bothers me is that, in a small way, I really do sort of wish I could believe that we all get to go home to a loving deity when we die. But I can’t ever believe such a thing, so when a guy stands up there telling me about it, I can’t help feeling like a child whose parents are feeding them the story about how the dog has been sent to the farm.

Anyway, they’re good people, my in-laws. I’m glad to know them. And I am grateful to all of you for your kind words of comfort over the last week.


Jul. 27th, 2006 09:37 pm (UTC)
For what it's worth, when my dad was "on his final approach" he was still pretty lucid right up to the end. It was interesting to watch how his attention seemed to be taken up by something fascinating taking place on the ceiling. When I asked him to describe it to me, he told me that he really wished he could, but there were no words...

I think the french were onto something when they coined the term "petit mort" as a euphemism for the orgasm. Nobody quite experiences an orgasm the same way anybody else does--and I think it's much the same way with death. Sure, there are the physiological similarities, but as to the psychological, emotional and spiritual aspect of it--to each his or her own.

As for "the farm," it's there for you if you believe it's there, and if you don't it's not. Take the comforting gestures for what they are and don't let yourself get hung up on the language.

Having just had a refresher course on that, trust me, I know what I'm talking about.

Love to you both!



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