Miscellany

Fearing death depends on what you think death is

Some people don’t fear death and some do. I’m the latter guy. Death scares the hell out of me. I’m not scared because I’ll miss my friends and family. Actually death might be a nice break from them and possibly a chance to make new friends on the other side. Who knows?

What worries me about death? What’s on the other side. I don’t know. Will I be sitting on a nice fluffy cloud hanging out? Will I be sitting with my friends people watching in Heaven and cracking jokes? I could do that. Will there be coffee and trail mix? Can I go on a road trip? Can I haunt people and mess with them? I have things I would like to do. I don’t like to sit still for too long. I get bored easily. I can’t hold a job. How could I sit in Heaven for eternity?

Are the people in Heaven nice or at least nicer than here? What if I run into the guy I work with who makes my stomach turn? Is he nicer up there or is he the same dick he is here on Earth? Will he come up to me and say “I’m telling God you used to put Baileys in your coffee at work”.   Ugh, “Fuck off! How did you even get in Heaven?” I’d seriously wonder.

When this life ends, is there a new beginning or will I remember this life? Will I look back at all the things I did and didn’t do?
Someone shaking my arm and yelling, “Gus…Gus…Gus!!”
“Huh…what?….What’s going on?” me all confused.
“You’re in Heaven. You’re dead. That was a one way street you turned down” I’m told.
“Damn it! I knew I should have stopped and got Chick-fil-A!!” I shout.

Driving down the one way street sounds about right too, considering I’m a horrible driver. Knowing my luck it was my Mom that I hit and killed. She would come charging up to me in Heaven all pissed off “Jesus Christ! You drive like your damn father!”. Do I have to listen to that for the rest of eternity? Every time she introduced me to someone in Heaven I would be introduced as “the son who killed me”. I don’t need that. I really don’t.

What if there isn’t even a Heaven? Where do we go? If we go anywhere. The first time I ever had surgery I didn’t know what to expect. It was the weirdest feeling. I was laying on the table with a huge light above me when the doctors face came into my vision. “I gave you some happy juice” he said. I just smiled and my vision went into a funnel and I was out. The odd thing is all I remember is black. No thoughts, no dreams, not even a remembering of consciousness. You know when you sleep you at least have the feeling of awareness. Nothing. Then just recently a couple months back I had to have surgery again. My fear was being put to sleep. I spoke with my Mom before the surgery and told her of my fear of being put to sleep. “What if I don’t wake up”? My Mom’s response “You’ll never know”. True. The thought of death just being blackness and nothingness. That would scare me to think that’s what death is. I can see how people might fear death then.

What if you’re reality of death and Heaven are like those positive people? If you create a reality that death is a magical place and happiness, then you most certainly don’t fear death. I have the belief that Heaven is like a house party. When I die I’m walking and the fog clears. There is this familiar looking beat up old ranch home with some Dollar Store lawn ornaments. The lights are on, so I go on up and ring the door bell. The door flies open and standing there is my Grandma Nana. In total disbelief I stand catatonic.
“I’ll be damned!” Nana says and she yells over her shoulder, “Hey everybody, it’s Gus!!”
She pulls the door open wider and there is a house full of family that had gone ahead before me. It was a house party like from my childhood.
I stand there with tears streaming down my face. I can’t think of a better thing to come home to.
Nana waves her arm and shouts “Well you gonna come in or stand there like an asshole?”

If this is my reality of death. I have nothing to fear.

“People say that what we are all seeking is a meaning for life.  I don’t think this is what we’re really seeking.  I think what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive”
-Joseph Campbell