The Afterlife

Thanks for all of the lovely comments yesterday - you guys are all absolutely amazing.

For those wondering, my grandmother passed away this morning. I got the call at 7:30 a.m. I'll never be comfortable with the sight of someone deceased - it's the same person only...not. As expected, my mom is taking it extremely hard, the rest of us are coping. We leave for the funeral in New York tomorrow.

A few interesting things happened leading up to this. My dad was the last person she spoke to, back on Sunday. He was there right before she went unconscious and was rushed to ICU. The last thing he remembers her saying was "Bill [my grandfather who passed away a little over a year ago] wants me now." My grandfather was always stubborn. After she was gone, apparently the automatic hand dryer in the room turned on twice, with no one around it. We're pretty sure it was him, taking her away.

When Chaya passed, away all I could think of was making it to the hospital safely. When Dickie [my circus director] passed away, I thought of friends. When Justin's friend passed away, I thought of family. But when Samir drove me to the hospital this morning, I thought of the afterlife. [Yes, it's been an incredibly hard past year and half in regards to deaths].

I know everyone has different ideas about heaven and hell and the afterlife and of course no one really knows for sure. When I was a kid, I saw heaven as a big party, with everyone there. My grandfather could be playing the jazz with Louis Armstrong, as he always wanted to. Today, I somewhat believe the same. I believe in something more, somewhere where everyone is, looking out for us.

A few months ago, my mom met with her sister and her sister's best friend who is, of all things, a medium. [Now, i'm not sure how much I believe in the whole psychic/medium realm, but this story got to me.] The medium had no prior knowledge of my mom, only that her father passed away. So, in a restaurant while eating dinner, the medium saw...spirits. She told my mom that she saw my grandfather, who was fine and watching out for us. With him was a dog, repeatedly jumping on his leg. He told the medium to warn my grandmother never to cut off her ring, as the opportunity will arrive where she might. She then sensed another presence, someone not related, someone younger and recently deceased. He, as horrid as this sounds, had a "loose head" and also said he was fine. He said to tell someone that she should have gone home with him. This someone was related to the number 14. My grandfather said he was watching over this kid.

Now, that all may sound vague, but here's the story behind everything. Growing up, we had a family dog who LOVED my grandfather, of all people. He'd constantly jump on his leg to get food during holiday dinners. Not long before my grandfather passed away, my dog did. So that was Oreo.

As I previously wrote about, my brother's 23 year old best friend passed away in November (only two weeks before this reading) from a very brutal car accident. The doctors determined his death was from a broken spine...and neck. His head, essentially, wasn't connected before he died. Every night prior to the accident, he and my brother would go out and my brother would always drive him home. My brother, by the way, was born on April 14th. His hockey number was 14, and the number is also tattooed on his leg. When we told Justin this, he teared up, but was relieved. He wasn't sure what he believed in either, but hearing his friend was okay...meant something. 

And the ring? Last week, my mom got to the hospital to visit my grandmother just before they were about to cut off her rings, since her hands were swelling. My mom took the rings and has been holding on to them since. This morning, she gave them to me. Apparently, as the rings were slid off her finger, my grandmother told my mom "they're for Lauren." She and Chaya were saving them for me.

In my mind, they're up there now, my grandparents, reunited at last. They're watching me as I type this, as Samir studies for the Bar in the other room, as Justin works on cars to distract himself, and as my parents make arrangements for tomorrow's journey. They're hugging and everything is fine because neither are in pain. It's been a while since that's been the case.

I think it's sad if you don't believe that there's something more, where a reunion is possible. Where people who have never met, but are connected in someway, can be brought together.

Right now, of all times, I have to believe that.