But I DO believe that there is an afterlife where we get to hang out with our family and friends, for as long as we need or want to…and that if after that we want to come here and experience another lifetime, we do.

Instead of Hell for people who’ve Done Bad Things, I believe there’s Afterlife School, where they have to deal with all their atrocities.

I had a beautiful dream once, where it seemed like the Veil lifted a bit. I’ve had no fear of death ever since then. ;D

Best Wishes.
.-= Al_Pal´s last blog ..Sensitivity: I have it. =-.

I’m sorry for your loss of your father. I heard at grief support group that after the first major loss it is common to be afraid of future losses, because you now know how much it will hurt. I am certainly terrified of losing someone else close.

I do talk to my surviving twin about death. I have to, her brother passed away last February. She is 4 and has the usual curiosity about everything. We manage okay on talking about some things and not so great on others. I had real problems figuring out how to answer questions on whether Drew was having a birthday part in heaven and who would be there. We let her ideas make up the answers after some fumbling on our parts.

The best book about death for kids that I’ve found so far is Lifetimes:by Bryan Mellonie. I also thought When Dinosaurs Die by Laurie Krazny Brown was nicely done.
.-= Kairos´s last blog ..Ice cream =-.

You can follow a few links within that post to the other times I’ve written about talking to my son about death. (He’s just three, so there haven’t been so many conversations about it yet.)

Even though I go to church regularly and though I believe a loving God created us, I don’t claim to know what happens after death. My church is not dogmatic – I could not stand a church that claimed to have the answers.

My mother is elderly and in horrible pain. She has arthritis and can only walk a step or two and can barely move at all. She often wishes to die.

She decided to quit taking her heart medication and to let a heart attack take her. She had three fairly serious episodes of chest pain – about which she told no one but my father – before the last one, when she decided not to die and instead to call the paramedics.

It was in the hospital that day when I found out her plan. She was telling the doctor and it was like a kick to the chest. I had often wished for her to die so that her suffering would end. I thought that was a perfectly reasonable position, one that sprang from kindness and concern for her.

But when I was faced with the reality, I just couldn’t breathe. I burst into tears and she said “You know why I didn’t want to go on living this kind of life.”

I said “I know. I know but I still want you around.” Sobbing. I think she was a little flattered by my reaction, in a funny way.

I grasp at straws. The dreams of my dead sister having fun on the beach. The visions of those about to die who see their loved ones waiting for them. The near-death experience stories.

But I don’t know. The Great Mystery indeed.

Big hugs to you, sweetie. Thanks for talking about this.
.-= Suebob´s last blog ..Oh what a feelin’. Peel me off the ceiling. =-.

The troll never was good at sharing and taking turns. Or typing. His fingers are too big.

Signed,
Three Billy Goats Gruff
{baaaaa}