What Happens When We Die
I post a lot about Death, but it’s something we all share (or will) so it’s hard not to think about it. I don’t believe in God. I know that scares people, but it’s not so bad. It’s a relief to know I’m not being “judged” by some alien being that will determine if I go to Heaven or Hell. The only person doing the judging is myself - and that’s enough to make me a good, bad, or mostly just a somewhere-in-between person. But just because I don’t believe in the religious aspect, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in the Unknown. I do believe in Aliens, but I also believe they want nothing to do with us. I’m sure, with the exception of any anti-death or anti-aging medicines they’ve probably created, those Aliens would just as naturally die as we do. Everything living will die.
What fascinates me is how intertwined we are with the universe. There are more galaxies out there than cells in our body - cells that were created from the star dust in those galaxies. Space is infinite and we are all a part of it- albeit, a very small one. However, it gratifies me to know that when we die our purpose on Earth does not stop. As we decompose, we continue to give. Parts of us continue to live on within those animals or back in space. Again, we are all intertwined. Other than our physical self, I do think we leave behind an imprint. People may call these “ghosts”. I’d define it more as releases of energy (and to be clear I’m not talking about a soul). Maybe it originates from the memories of the deceased or even through the memories of their loved ones. But it all makes sense that if we were created from energy, in the end, we’d have to release it somehow.
I used to believe in God. I’d pray every night at the foot of my bed asking for his forgiveness and to take care of my family. Then when I was about 12, I knew he wasn’t true. It felt like a switch, but I think it crept up on me until one day it felt wrong. For a while, I believed in nothing and that’s when I was most terrified of Death. It loomed over me and I’d cry at night depressed that I only had one life - just one. I was in college when that whole perspective changed - when my Grandmother died.
My Grandmother had AIDS. But being a feisty Cuban, she lived for a long time. Still, she was frail. One day my Mother and her went to a gas station. As my Grandmother walked down the candy aisle, the young cashier gawked at her
“Wowwww…. How old is she??”
To which my Mother replied,
“She is 100 years old.”
Even though I think she was only 65 at the time.
The young man stared in awe.
Before her illness, my Grandmother was a stunning young woman. I still stare lovingly and honestly, a little salty at her photos wondering why on Earth I didn’t get all her genes. My favorite photo of her has always been one where she is in a red Chinese Qipao dress and her orange, fiery hair is done up in a beehive hairdo. She smiles like she knows she looks good, because she does. She is waving at the camera.
Now you know already that I am not religious and I don’t believe in God. I also wasn’t very close to my Grandmother. She lived in Florida and I lived in Chicago. I spent more time with her as a baby when my parents would visit or when she’d come up for grandchildren’s birthdays. When I was old enough to remember, it was at that age I was terrified of “old” people. Regardless, she must have cared for me more than I ever knew.
Senior year of college I rented a studio. Across from the kitchenette, my bed was placed along the wall with a digital alarm clock beside it. Other than the black mold and german roaches, it was a cozy place. Like any other night, I had gone to bed thinking about classes and boys - not about my Grandmother.
I wake up in the middle of the night feeling groggy. I don’t have my glasses on so everything is a bit blurry - but when I look at the clock I can see the faint outlines of 2:00 A.M. I find it hard to have cohesive thoughts and suddenly realize that I’m dreaming. I don’t like this because anything can happen in dreams and I have a looming feeling this one isn’t right. I try pinching myself awake, but feel nothing. I try screaming but I can barely exhale enough air to blow out a candle. Then I try to throw myself forward as if to resurrect my body awake. It works, or so I thought. I sit up in bed but everything is still the same. Blurry, 2:00 A.M. I know I had left the dream, but it’s like I had immediately returned. I’m starting to grow scared because I feel something approaching. I throw myself forward - but again, I’m tossed back into the same dream. This time I scan my studio, terrified of what I might see. Although I can hardly make it out, I notice a faint outline of a person at the edge of the room by the windows. There is an orange mass on top and a red figure beneath it - it’s waving at me. I know I shouldn’t be scared, but I still want to get out of this dream. I throw myself forward and my eyes open. I slowly sit up, heart racing, and I look over at my clock. More clearly now, it’s 2:01 A.M.
As I was getting ready for class that morning, I didn’t think much of the dream. I figured it was another weird and unexplainable one of many. Then my Mother called me,
“Your Grandmother died this morning. They said it was around 2:00 A.M.”
My dream came rushing back and no longer a blurry figure, I saw my Grandmother with her orange hair, wearing her Qipao dress, waving at me.
Needless to say, I freaked out.
“Mom… I had this dream last night.”
I explained everything to her.
She hesitated a moment, probably also freaked out that her non-religious daughter had a spiritual encounter, and finally said,
“She came to say good-bye.”
Every time I think of that moment, I cry. I wish I had known my Grandmother more and don’t feel like I deserved a final good-bye from her. But did she actually come to say good-bye or did something trigger to make my most memorable image of her appear- perhaps some kind of released energy? I will never be able to explain this. But I do know that something Unknown happened to me that night. We are all connected in ways we have yet to figure out and I’m confident one day, we will.