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I haven't written much lately. Maybe it has something to do with my Dad dying. He died. I don't think I know it yet and it has been since June 21st at 10:30 in the morning. I remember where I was and what I was doing same as I remember where and what I was doing when John F. Kennede was assassinated. I don't remember where I was when Elvis died. That is weird. Back to my place and point. I did not race to the farm to view the dead body like everyone else did, I am sure to my disgrace, family dynamics and all. I did not go up to the casket and kiss the pasty spiritless body goodbye. I did not get too close to the hearse and touch the big iron body catcher before it took Dad away and incinerated what was left of his earthly existence. I just stood there for the funeral and while the family went with the body and box to the hearse. Wonder if that is called drama, or if its respect? Both? I just knew I couldn't do it. I have PTSD from life. Ha. My life has been so challenged I get to name the effects it has had on me! Yet I laugh and am thankful and carry on always hoping for some relief. I learned in school that during the war people went on "Relief." You know where the government gives you bread and water and vouchers. Looks like that might happen again. Cant they come up with any new ideas? Again back to my point. Where is my Dad? Did he get to float up some invisible (to us) stairway to heaven? Is he stuck in the fancy Urn sitting on top the TV shelves at the funny farm? Is he the bat that kept banging on his bedroom door so mother let it in and shut the door never to open it again since. Is he wandering around alone? Is he afraid? Is he in some city we cant see with golden streets and beautiful smells and colors unknown to us? Or did he turn right around and jump in someones womb and is on his way back? Is he watching over me? Did his bad habits stay on earth and the good ones go to heaven? Was he the baby bat that got into my house right after he died ? Was he the bumble bee that sat on my son's leg for over an hour communicating with him? (My son believes we are all one) Is he next to me right now? Can he make things happen to help me now that he is gone?Not sure I believe any of it. Or maybe I believe all of it. I do believe when people die only the body dies. The spirit lives on. Maybe not on golden streets and probably there is no St. Peter at a white gate letting some in and others not. The moth changes to the butterfly, the sperm and the egg change into a human being with amazing intricate parts that all work together in a way so called a miracle and so...taken for granted. Why wouldn't I believe in something "far out." My Dad is probably somewhere far out there hopefully enjoying his spirit life. Bet he doesn't have PTSD where he is. The Long Island Psychic says he is here.... he might want to tell me one or two little sentences they say, and then he disappears! To where?
I guess I'll find out some day. No guessing about it. So until next time, be safe, be well, and be happy. Oh, get rich so you don't have to go on "relief." ha
