I had a dream yesterday

2/14/10

I dreamed that Ian was alive, and needed my help - in some indeterminate, fuzzy way that can only happen in a dream. He was leading me through some dark hallways, telling me "go here" or "go there" and in the end, we managed to accomplish whatever it was that he needed, and he gave me a hug. Then, still in the dream, he vanished, and I remembered that he had been dead for over a year. I realized that the whole endeavor had been in my imagination, and I began to cry. That's when I awoke from the dream.


Somehow, through all of that, I came away with a revelation - it is not my son's death that torments me. I feel the greatest loss I have ever felt because of that time, but that loss is not the source of the grief I still feel.


My real grief comes from watching my son die slowly, and knowing that there was nothing I could do to take away his pain. I feel like that knowledge has ripped out my sense of hope. Life is a game, and we all lose in the end, because we all die. We don't keep our money, our toys, our clothes or even our names. We get nothing from this game, and it takes everything from us.




What happens in the next political election is ultimately of so little importance that it might as well not happen at all. 100 years from now, or 100 * 100 years from now, our politics will be nothing but notes in a history book, or forgotten altogether, as will the details of our lives.


Why do we continue to play at a game that we are destined to lose? We should stop preparing for our future and begin preparing for our death.


The future is a mystery, death is inevitable. It is the only thing, other than birth, that every person on this planet shares. Whatever happens after death is the sum and reality of life. Do we face hell, or heaven, or reincarnation, or nothing? That is the only real question that I see worth answering.


How did I pull this thought from that dream? I don't know. Is it the message I should have taken? I can't answer that either.


But is it the truth?

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