Today a soul has slipped away
Released from pain and suffering
Freed from her broken body
And into the arms of her lost love
Together they dance
Into another realm
A place of peace and rest
Until life calls them anew
The living are left
To celebrate a life well lived
And the end of the screams and the blood
Let their rest be full of bliss
And may they be reborn together again
My packmate Hope’s grandmother died this morning. I knew her vicariously, through the tales Hope brought back to me, and I know I would have liked her if I had gotten the chance to meet her. Apparently, we have a similar taste in books. I grieve for a missed opportunity to meet a special soul and I grieve because my packmate grieves. She meant a lot to Hope, but her death has come as a relief. The last couple of weeks have not been kind. Grandmother’s husband passed away less than a year ago, and Hope says they were true soul mates. They’re together again now. So it’s a bittersweet type of grief, they both lived full lives and deserve the rest they’re getting now.
As you may have noticed from the poem, I am a believer of reincarnation. I know the post popular after death theory is the concept of heaven and hell, but that’s never worked for me. The idea that someone can be eternally damned, and damned so easily (depending on the particular religion) for the events of a single lifetime doesn’t sit well with me. The concept of heaven is just as bad for me. It sounds incredibly boring, a place where nothing bad ever happens. What would you do? You can only do whatever you want for so long before it becomes repetitive. Such a black and white system doesn’t really work for me either. Bad isn’t always evil and good isn’t always perfect, sometimes bad things turn out to be good things, and vice versa. Living in a realm based purely on one or the other seems terribly unbalanced. I’m not bashing it; I’m just saying it doesn’t work for me.
The other extreme, where we all turn to dust and nothingness when we die makes sense to the cynic in me, but I don’t let the cynic in me make decisions about my spirituality or my life in general. Reincarnation just makes the most sense for me. I think each life has a purpose (insert fate, destiny, or any term you care to imply) exactly how I believe all that to work is complicated and not the point of tonight’s post, and that we learn and grow each time. I think there’s a place we rest in between lives, and that place may be heavenly or limbo-like, but I think we always move on eventually. There’s always something more to learn.
That is what I hope for Hope’s grandmother, that she and her mate have a good rest in the in-between and another long, happy life together for the next go-round. If it’s not perfectly obvious, this post is dedicated to Hope’s grandmother and all of those she left behind.
Posted on April 6, 2013, in Full Moon, In the Pack, NaPoWriMo, Wolfsong and tagged death, family, friends, grief, life, loss, love, personal, poetry, relationships, spirituality. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.