This past week has been particularly hard, my grandmother passed away last Wednesday. She was 85, and had been sick for a very long time; but I'm still surprised at how much it hurts. I'm also surprised at how differently I'm dealing with it than the rest of my family; even though I was raised Christian, I don't believe everything I learned in grade school. I'm left questioning what's next after we die, and because I have no solid answer, there's fear in my mind.
I think everyone has to go through it and deal with death on their own terms. I don't doubt that faith gives a lot of people security, and comfort; but I don't believe in heaven and hell the same way most people do, and I struggle to define those concepts for myself. For me, they're much more abstract, and most of the time I'm happy with my own definitions of those concepts. But this week, abstract consructs give me little comfort. I'm thankful though, that my Mom understands how differently I deal with things, and that she still knows what I need when I hurt. I love you, Mom!