To imagine what happens after my death makes me smile. I see colors brighter, new colors new spectrums of visual delights. I can go anywhere just by desire to go. I see my forever friends and family. God and Jesus are open to me - my questions, my need to be nurtured and loved. I will be spirit with a form of some kind. I will be changed. I will be at peace.
My Grandfather's death was welcomed by me. We had never been close. My mother, his only child, was never close to him. There were many old hurts - wounds still festering beneath our relationship.
Despite this I ended up being his care - over for the last 7 of his 97 years of life. Many wounds were healed, some trust was built. He loved my two children and in his way he loved me - But he never said "I LOVE You" - He never said "Thank You"
After 7 years of caregiving, having two two children in the same period, I was ready to move on when granddaddy died.
As we were going to the hospital we both knew I was his favorite. The last time he would use his beloved land
He was not ready to die. He wanted to be 100. But I was ready to move on.
Hope for my death. My hopes concern my dying process. The days weeks months before my death, I hope I am at peace. I cannot say now what will bring me that peace.
I hope that I am comfortable and well cared for - cared for with respect and love. Who will cry over my empty cocoon when I have burst forth on the other side - not a butterfly but tens of thousands of butterflies and tens of thousand times better than a butterfly.
Fears. My hope is that I will have no fears, no unfinished business. But how do you live life to its fullest and know enough to have all your lose ends taken care of.