Hospice has many, many opportunities for contemplating the unexplainable. There seem to be lots of patients who see and talk to dead relatives. Family members will often think they're hallucinating and maybe so, but if that's the case, I wonder why it's always dead relatives. Why not their childhood sweetheart or best friend from college? Is the patient the only one who senses them or does the room suddenly feel crowded?
For someone like me who believes that our energy survives but not in the same solid form, how is this possible? And what, exactly, are they seeing? Is Grandma Rose age 92 when she appears to them or 25? Why one over the other? Is it just an image of her face or is she seated comfortably in the rocking chair she inherited from her own grandmother?
There are family members who find such things scary or macabre. I would think it would be comforting to know there are relatives to help make the transition less frightening. On the other hand, the disquieting aspect to the whole thing might be wondering if they only come back at death or if they're watching our everyday behavior, tsk-tsking over every petty argument and uncharitable act.
When it comes to understanding the afterlife, my scales vacillate between feelings of admiration for anyone who claims to have all the answers and incredulity that anyone could possibly think they have all the answers. Any which way I contemplate it, there are things that don't quite fit my view of the afterlife and the dying process. Every incident brings more questions and it's always interesting to take the puzzle pieces, shake them up and see if they'll fall into a cohesive picture.
No comments:
Post a Comment