Freedom Beyond These Lips

Chapter 23: Understanding Death

I've just come back from a funeral. Remembering a sweet old woman I used to give lemons to. She lived two doors down. She was extremely religious, a Christian Evangelical. She found happiness in the smallest things, and she brought this whole glow of joy wherever she went. I craved to be like her. I craved the idea that one day I could find a religion, dedicate a majority of my life to it, and start to mend myself as well as the others around me. Whether that be with mental illnesses, or if they're just having a bad day.

I can recall taking care of her house while she was away on a vacation, and she came over and clasped a golden necklace in the shape of a heart with an angel on the front. At the time, I thought - really? That's it? I remember being upset about this. She said to me

"I don't have a lot of money, so I got you this."

Amongst some biblical scriptures I couldn't understand. Now, in present day, clasping that necklace around me to wear it to her memorial, it made me feel like she was present with me, at that moment. It took me quite a long time to understand that she was gone. She truly was an angel. Her lungs had collapsed, and she'd had several heart attacks, and she had tuberculosis. She could hardly walk, and when I went to go see her. She looked upset that I'd seen her in that condition. The last thing she did for me, was sing. We asked her not to, and to save her energy - but she refused, and she belted out into this beautiful hymn. It sounded like something from a movie, but it was true.

When the funeral happened, they mentioned her small antics, that i'd never really noticed until it was pointed out. I tried everything in my will to not cry, but when her son got up on stage, gripped the mic, and with every ounce of power he had in him, he tried to force a smile to talk about a recent birthday, and how his mother used to sing annually. She came up with her own song that had her own religious twist in the lyrics. He mentioned that if they weren't able to reach the phone, she'd leave a voicemail. His aunt had managed to find the voicemail, pull out her phone and let her voice ring through the church. I broke out into tears, sobbing. She had the most graceful voice, that just kept reminding me of her in the hospital, singing in the worst condition possible.

She was better now, and like her family said, she'd be dancing, and singing up where ever she wanted to be. I want to believe that death happens for a reason. To justify it, we come up with heaven, or hell if you don't exactly enjoy who they are - but I didn't believe in either, and it bothered me, a lot. For the people who I had a lot compassion for, I feared that my speculations were real. I cannot physically change my views. I want to believe in reincarnation, or heaven thats based upon individual views, but everything's black. Nothing but void, because that is what I can recall prior to being alive, so how do I know that my existence will carry into the afterlife? If you have any sort of hope in this world, any sort of faith - believe, because my views tear me apart. My views, make me anxious, scared, and upset constantly. If you can believe - do it. Understanding death is not easy.