Rapture...?
Has anyone else heard that Judgement Day is on Saturday? I'll have to be sure to sleep in that day.
I had a very strange weekend. I moved back home for the summer, and found that I passed my Shakespeare final with either a C+ or a B of some kind, which is strange on its own. Further, I got a 90% on my stats final (what). But the truly indescribable bit happened on Sunday.
My mother was cleaning out our barn, and she was cleaning out the part in which we store our lawnmowers and such things. While doing this, she felt compelled to go to the entire other side of the barn because there was "something she had to do" over there, though afterward she was unable to explain why she felt the need to do this. Within minutes of entering that part of the barn, she came across a large cardboard shipping tube. She opened the tube and found innumerable beautiful things (wrapped in newspaper from 1989) that belonged to my grandmother. The contents included glasswork by my grandfather, other glassworks she collected, and ten or twenty pieces of heirloom silver, several of them monogrammed with my family name. It was, quite literally, a treasure chest. The truly fascinating part of this was that Sunday was the anniversary of my grandmother's death.
In my family, we don't talk about my grandmother often. The occasional random story will come out, but nothing significant. I know very little about her life, her personality, or how or when she died. We just don't bring her up. She died before I could ever know her, though there is a photograph of her holding me from before I was a year old. This being so, I never really felt grief at her absence, beyond a passing wish to have met her. On Sunday, as I was cleaning off the beautiful things that my mother was led to that day, I felt deep grief over her for the first time. It was the closest I had ever been to being with her in adulthood, and I truly felt her presence that day. I am told that about the time I was 18 months old and had learned to talk, I told my parents that "grandma is here," even though she had already passed away. I now believe that she has been with me for a long time, just watching. I am grateful that I finally got the chance to say hi.
I am not a religious person. Spiritual, yes, but not religious. Thus, the thought of an afterlife has not been something I have considered at length. It seems I have some thinking to do.
[Edit: please don't make fun of me. I am saying this in all seriousness.]
I had a very strange weekend. I moved back home for the summer, and found that I passed my Shakespeare final with either a C+ or a B of some kind, which is strange on its own. Further, I got a 90% on my stats final (what). But the truly indescribable bit happened on Sunday.
My mother was cleaning out our barn, and she was cleaning out the part in which we store our lawnmowers and such things. While doing this, she felt compelled to go to the entire other side of the barn because there was "something she had to do" over there, though afterward she was unable to explain why she felt the need to do this. Within minutes of entering that part of the barn, she came across a large cardboard shipping tube. She opened the tube and found innumerable beautiful things (wrapped in newspaper from 1989) that belonged to my grandmother. The contents included glasswork by my grandfather, other glassworks she collected, and ten or twenty pieces of heirloom silver, several of them monogrammed with my family name. It was, quite literally, a treasure chest. The truly fascinating part of this was that Sunday was the anniversary of my grandmother's death.
In my family, we don't talk about my grandmother often. The occasional random story will come out, but nothing significant. I know very little about her life, her personality, or how or when she died. We just don't bring her up. She died before I could ever know her, though there is a photograph of her holding me from before I was a year old. This being so, I never really felt grief at her absence, beyond a passing wish to have met her. On Sunday, as I was cleaning off the beautiful things that my mother was led to that day, I felt deep grief over her for the first time. It was the closest I had ever been to being with her in adulthood, and I truly felt her presence that day. I am told that about the time I was 18 months old and had learned to talk, I told my parents that "grandma is here," even though she had already passed away. I now believe that she has been with me for a long time, just watching. I am grateful that I finally got the chance to say hi.
I am not a religious person. Spiritual, yes, but not religious. Thus, the thought of an afterlife has not been something I have considered at length. It seems I have some thinking to do.
[Edit: please don't make fun of me. I am saying this in all seriousness.]