A wave of ‘death’ blew in a few days ago; once again taking another loved one of mine. My Aunt, I loved so very much, an angel to everyone, passed away last week, just like my other Aunt who passed a year ago. I wanted to add this to my ‘death tribute page’. So many loved ones dying led me to create that page, but I’m too vulnerable yet, too ‘something’ to be organized enough to add it to that page. LOL. I miss them so much!
Each death that occurs brings me closer to confusion that brings me closer to the answer of my life. It’s as if you must get right next to that illusive confusion that only lurks by ‘death’ that’s connected to your heart and soul, in order to pass through to the next phase of your life, a phase that holds answers to your questions that you don’t know how to form into words, questions, feelings that you don’t know how to say, ‘what the heck is wrong with you?’
Every casket I carry –literally- (how morbid) and place on their final resting place, pulls out tears that somehow clean out the questions, maybe taking extra words out of them, making them more simpler to the point where all that is left is a few words and then you say, “Oh, yeah, I can answer that?” You become bolder! Things that you would never decide on because you thought it would be throwing away all of your hard work, you suddenly decide on and ignore the ones that say, “If you do that you’ll be making a big mistake!!” My answer to them –because that did happen yesterday- is, “In your eyes, it’s a mistake, in my eyes, it’s a wise choice.”
I am secretly going to go back to school in a little bit to get something else other than the bachelor degree I have. I’ve narrowed it down to two careers. But to keep this moment quick, I’ll save that perhaps for another post. I was thinking about Nursing, but can’t afford to quit my job for over a year. LOL. Always something, right?
Moral? Hold on. Keep holding on. Through death, comes tears of course, but then the clouds will start to part and the answer you’ve been longing for will show itself. Just open your eyes and give it a chance to explain its disappearance for so long, a chance to tell you, “Yes, it’ll be okay if you change this, or do this, or leave this for that, etc.” Believe in your heart that God knows what he’s doing. Please! Death is inevitable. But, happiness now and in the hereafter is forever. No one really dies. We just change. Like water; it evaporates, turns to rain again, turns to ice, but it’s still the same ‘water’. Our souls, spirits, posses these bodies and make them ‘alive’. Right? So after we go, we only possess something else in the hereafter, something greater that matches our ‘love’ not hate. There’s one piece of evidence that no one can argue with that proves we are ‘alive’ because of a greater power, and that’s the human ‘heart’. The heart is not connected to anything that powers it. No! It powers the body, but NOTHING that is visible powers IT. Our spirit powers it. So, when it stops, we go someplace and power another ‘vessel’ another ‘thing’. Bodies have a time limit, but our souls, spirits and the love they’ve learned to hold to, is forever!!! Everyone I lost, I loved! And I will take that with me. Even if Saint Peter decides that ‘going down’ is my fate –I hope not- I will still be grateful that my heart loved, cared, helped, and forever cherished the ones that departed. They are with me; I know it.
We were at a lounge called 38 Below, which is skating-themed. Hockey and figure skates, including a signed pair of hers, hang over the bar, which features a “frost rail” that makes its surface look and feel like an ice rink. “But you should use Tonya Harding in your story,” she said. I told her I probably can’t; if her name is Tonya Price I should call her Tonya Price — paper of record and all that. She objected. “But Tonya Harding is who people know.” Which is a good point. She is Tonya Price but you cannot deny that she is also Tonya Harding. This is basically how this entire story goes: There are facts, and then there is the truth, and you can’t let one get in the way of the other or you’ll never understand what she’s trying to tell you. 
WEATHER INTERNAL 