Background
In writing I feel we better understand ourselves.
We cannot improve if we do not see our mistakes.
We learn what made us the way we are, the good and bad.
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I have always longed for the time I could just find the cool, quiet comfort of death.
I finally realize why this has always been so enticing.
My father was in a lumberjack accident when I was five.
He was pronounced dead and then his heart started beating 30 minutes later. He was in a coma and when he woke up his brain waves had been damaged, so he had difficulty expressing his feelings or speaking what he was thinking.
He tried to tell us about the place his spirit went, his description of heaven. He would cry, and the longing he felt because he wanted so badly to return was heart breaking.
Watching my giant beautiful father longing to die, left me with a feeling that death led to a better place. So I see death for me as something to celebrate.
As far back as my memory goes I have fantasized about a cool dark comforting place, I lay back shutting my eyes, nothing hurts either physically or mentally.
All my loved ones are safe there is no contention or pain for them.
I finally give myself permission to stop, they understand and rejoice with me. There is no anger or judgment.
While this has always been how I feel, I hope they are aware that I am proud and thank full for every second spent with them.
I would like to dream in this sanctuary; in my dreams my children are always near, so I may be able to watch,enjoy and assist them.
I have always carried a feeling of someone standing by me with a feeling of love and reassurance giving me a distinct knowledge that the one by my side is one who is dear to me. Though not always the same person they come and go. They are telling me that it is not emptiness after this life ends.
They tell me that all we experience is not all there is, what we live we share-we are never alone.
