This term I am taking a death and dying class in school and had no idea when I signed up for it that I would be where I am in life. Things are kinda funny that way- aren't they? Today was my first class in death and dying. I found it tremendously interesting and quite a comfortable classroom to be in. I bonded immediately with a lady named Jennifer and found out she lives very, very close to me. She is someone I think I want to foster a friendship outside of class with. I wasn't really thinking I would learn very many new things in this class, as I have been asshole to armpits deep in death since I was age ten. I thought I would be brought to a place where I would be prompted and inspired to live better, love more, and be helped through my own grief cycle while dealing with Claude's death and Rhema's cancer. But right at the very start of class Marilyn said something that gave me goose bumps and I realized I just may have underestimated how much I would get out of this class.
She told a story of a little girl that was abducted, raped and killed while on a 2nd grade fieldtrip with her daughter's class. She said that she was told that the little girl was not even present while the murder was happening but instead somewhere else, perhaps floating above herself watching, but not suffering, and not terrified, nor in pain. This made so much sense because on all the shows I watch on people who have nearly been killed, they report experiencing an out of body experience where they were above themselves watching the event, but free of pain and fear. It made complete and total sense to me that this was probably very much true, and God is the best God to ever God.
It took some of the fear and pain I feel when I do what every mother does, and that is imagining the very same thing happening to my own children. No doubt that should someone I love be faced with a terrible thing like this, I now know I have a place of peace to take cover in, and I have words of comfort I can offer other people.
I feel like my family is a good family and our thoughts about death are good and healthy, and each of us will help the next person to overcome tragedy, but I also come to realize I have some unfinished business myself concerning my family. It makes me think that Claude's walk through cancer, and Rhema's diagnosis isn't as senseless as it appears to be because God has a mighty work to do in our family, and perhaps the process of death (and hopefully a miracolous healing in Rhema!)will help us all heal and teach us to live a better, happier, complete life, both personally and as a family unit. Something tells me I am about to under go a transformation and I pray God gives me wisdom to see the right, the will to chose it, and the strength to make it endure.
