Thursday, February 23, 2012
I talked before here about how my faith has been pretty rocked to its core. I was raised Catholic and we're raising our kids the same...Catholic school and all that. We go to church on Sundays as a family. I wouldn't call K and I "pick and choose" Catholics, but I have definitely approached my religion with an intellectual, rational manner. There are many things I disagree about with the Church (homosexuality for starters), but they aren't things that have made me want to change course with our spiritual life as a family.
I don't know how to describe what my relationship with God is right now. I sometimes wonder whether it's all a bunch of hooey. When people say they're praying for me and our family it doesn't move me or make me think that those messages to God will have any effect on our lives. I wish I had the spiritual fortitude to help me get through this. Maybe it would bring me a sense of peace which would take the edge off a bit.
The one thing I do know now, though, is why people believe in heaven. The thought of my sister simply not "being" is absolutely devastating. I drive by the cemetery several times a day. When I let my mind wander and go to that awful space in my head where I imagine her in that coffin, under the ground, all alone...my chest tightens, the lump forms in my throat and I physically hurt. I remember during the burial those final moments when I simply could not walk away. I didn't want to leave her there. I didn't want to imagine my life without my big sister. My Zhea.
But maybe there is a heaven. It's not that I have this need so that "one day we'll be reunited." I can't accept that Jeanne's gone. I need to think that somewhere, somehow she still "is." She's watching me and her little girls. She's looking out for my little boys. She's laughing with Mike about how we're worrying about stuff that doesn't really matter and that she's got all the answers. I want to know that she's not in pain or scared or worried. If heaven means that, then I guess part of me believes.