Saturday, August 25, 2007

Why am I doing this?

So, you may ask, why am I doing this. Well, like many, I have questions - many of them.

I grew up in a Catholic household. I went to private catholic school all my life - even all the way through high school. My faith in catholicism fell dramatically after a family situation made it uncomfortable for us to any longer attend mass. We were shunned for something completely ridiculous - but that's another story.

I began to question things more outwardly in high school. This may explain why I had to repeat one year of 'Religion History' - I questioned way too much. On the plus side, however, this class taught me more about world religions and beliefs thereby opening my mind than I had expected. Around this same time I had a few paranormal experiences (which I may discuss later) that made me question even more.

Years later I befriended a gentleman of the Hindu belief. I learned from him many things, but mostly the ideal that all religions are merely paths up the same mountain. Although some may go in different directions and present different views along the way, they all lead up to the same peak. This changed me.

Somewhere along that path I became skeptical. For a long time I no longer believed in any form of afterlife. I believed firmly that we are all mere matter that simply ceases to be when our body dies.

Now, here I am few years later fearing death. My skeptical nature forces me to believe that upon death my mind will simply cease to exist. Poof. Gone. That's one hell of a scary thought late at night when you're staring at the ceiling. I want so badly to believe that something else is out there waiting for me - that my existence will live one somehow. I crave so dearly to have faith like so many that death is not the end of it all.

So, here I am on a new journey to explore the truth and gain back whatever semblance of faith I can.

2 comments:

LadyBrighid313 said...

Hello,
You don't know me and have no reason what-so-ever to believe me.

You will glean whatever you will from this. My real life ghost story tole me there is definitely something after death.

My son passed away January 3 1992. He had been ill for a very long time and went blind. Because of other maladies, he had been attached to me by the elbow for some years as his guide.

So he was more than my son in many ways. He became the other half of my personality. I was very blessed to be his best friend and his mom.

Well of course the loss devastated me, though I hadn't cried much. It's a weird thing that something hurts you so bad that you can't cry.

Well, my husband of the time, took a notion that he would get us all out of the house and try to cheer me up. That sounded good, so off we went for a ride.

We visited a few places that my son had always wanted to go to. One was a cave, that he never would have been able to have explored. In my mind, I found that I was still describing things to him.

I came out of the cave and thought that I could feel him near by, but it gets better.

Sunset was coming on and so I thought that we were headed for home. But Home was in the other direction. We ended up staying the night in Laughlin Nevada after a nice meal and some gambling.

As I laid down to sleep the tears finally began to fall. I was crying myself to sleep. I felt someone take my hand. I of course, thought that it was my husband trying to comfort me and I opened my eyes, but there was my son. He was as solid as if he had never left us, and he said, "Mom, I would have stayed, but my body was no damned good."

Then he faded away. I told my husband what had happened and he told me that he thought that it had been a fog over his eyes, but it was still there and it seemed to be bent over me.

I told him that I knew that, because my son, Jeremy, still had my hand. The sensation remained for a good five minutes.

I wish that I could tell you that I had seen my son a dozen times since, but sadly, that is the only time I saw and heard him that clearly. Still he is with me in my heart and I am blessed to know that he is somewhere and that somewhere is on the path before me.

I don't know that this will help your doubts.. but still, it's my story.

I wrote it all out as a short story for writing.com a couple of years ago. You can find it if you wish.
It would be under jlwhitten.

Good luck to you in your endeavors.

Jamie

LadyBrighid313 said...

Hello,
You don't know me and have no reason what-so-ever to believe me.

You will glean whatever you will from this. My real life ghost story tole me there is definitely something after death.

My son passed away January 3 1992. He had been ill for a very long time and went blind. Because of other maladies, he had been attached to me by the elbow for some years as his guide.

So he was more than my son in many ways. He became the other half of my personality. I was very blessed to be his best friend and his mom.

Well of course the loss devastated me, though I hadn't cried much. It's a weird thing that something hurts you so bad that you can't cry.

Well, my husband of the time, took a notion that he would get us all out of the house and try to cheer me up. That sounded good, so off we went for a ride.

We visited a few places that my son had always wanted to go to. One was a cave, that he never would have been able to have explored. In my mind, I found that I was still describing things to him.

I came out of the cave and thought that I could feel him near by, but it gets better.

Sunset was coming on and so I thought that we were headed for home. But Home was in the other direction. We ended up staying the night in Laughlin Nevada after a nice meal and some gambling.

As I laid down to sleep the tears finally began to fall. I was crying myself to sleep. I felt someone take my hand. I of course, thought that it was my husband trying to comfort me and I opened my eyes, but there was my son. He was as solid as if he had never left us, and he said, "Mom, I would have stayed, but my body was no damned good."

Then he faded away. I told my husband what had happened and he told me that he thought that it had been a fog over his eyes, but it was still there and it seemed to be bent over me.

I told him that I knew that, because my son, Jeremy, still had my hand. The sensation remained for a good five minutes.

I wish that I could tell you that I had seen my son a dozen times since, but sadly, that is the only time I saw and heard him that clearly. Still he is with me in my heart and I am blessed to know that he is somewhere and that somewhere is on the path before me.

I don't know that this will help your doubts.. but still, it's my story.

I wrote it all out as a short story for writing.com a couple of years ago. You can find it if you wish.
It would be under jlwhitten.

Good luck to you in your endeavors.

Jamie