Octrober 28: Wife's Funeral, Backs on God, Stages of Grief

Billy had to miss his wife's funeral because he was still so sick.  He was conscious, though, while Valencia was being put into the ground in Ilium.  Billy hadn't said much since regaining consciousness, hadn't responded very elaborately to the news of Valencia's death and Robert's coming home from the war and so on--so it was generally believed that he was a vegetable.  There was talk of performing an operation on him later, one which might improve the circulation of blood to his brain.

Actually, Billy's outward listlessness was a screen.  The listlessness concealed a mind which was fizzing and flashing thrillingly.  It was preparing letters and lectures about the flying saucers, the negligibility of death, and the true nature of time.

Billy isn't too upset about the death of his wife, Valencia, because he knew it was coming.  He also knows that, because of the "true nature of time," he will soon see her alive and well again.  Will make love to her on their wedding night.  Will give her a beautiful ring on their wedding anniversary.  Will say "I do" to her again.  Her funeral is not the end.  Billy will see her again, because time is not a straight line.  It's an M. C. Escher painting, curving back into itself, one hand drawing another hand drawing a hand.

I wish that my concept of time was more like Billy's.  That would make loss much easier.  However, I am stuck in chronology, as is almost every human being, except, maybe, schizophrenics and saints.  So, when a person dies, it's a permanent thing.  Now, if you are a follower of any major religion, death is simply a transition into something, hopefully, better.  More joyful.  Free of the pain and troubles of everyday life.

Two of my sisters have turned their backs on God and religion because of my other sister's death.  They say they are angry at God for letting it happen.  So, they don't want to have anything to do with Him.  Of course, this is just an excuse to not deal with their grief in any way.  They are looking for someone to blame, and God has pretty big shoulders to carry that burden.

Of course, it's a lot easier to blame God for the bad things that happen in life than to accept any responsibility for them.  I'm not saying that my two angry sisters are to blame for our sister's death.  They're not.  My sister died of lymphoma of the brain.  But my sisters are compounding their anger and sadness by not seeking any kind of peace with what happened.  They are stuck in stages three and four of grief (Anger/Bargaining and Depression/Loneliness).  They cling to these emotions like they're some kind of life preserver.  They're drowning.  Happy in their misery.

They are sad, angry, lost people right now.  I hope, some day, that they can somehow return some light into their lives.  Right now, however, they have big, God-sized holes that they're trying to fill with pain, grief, and fury.  It's not working for them, but they don't see it.

Today, Saint Marty is thankful for having hope in his life.