Eternity

Our neighbour Lucia is exhausted. Lucia’s mom is on morphine finally so at least is able to sleep. It is just a matter of time. The old house on the other side of us will soon be empty again, likely forever this time as it is old and run down, like its two previous residents.

I have always been afraid of dying. Not being dead, but the final process. Slow and painful is not fun. And what does the final moment feel like when one’s “soul passes from this life to the next”? I hope I go fast. Preferably at age 107 from a .357 between the eyes, fired by an irate and jealous husband.

Lately I have been wondering about the next life. How does one spend eternity? Never mind where but how? Dead is a long time.

One school of thought is “Fade to Black”. There isn’t anything on the other side. Like turning off the motor on the old Ford, parking it in the bush until it rusts into the ground. I don’t much like that view as life itself then seems so pointless.

Another notion that has a good number of followers is that we are recycled into another body and keep on trucking through time. (Reintarnation is when you come back as a hillbilly). I like that idea. I like to think in a past life I was a horseman of the Steppes, though there are some who suggest I was just part of his horse.

Those who insist on blowing themselves up in the name of Allah and jihad are convinced there will be a small herd of virgins waiting for them in Paradise. No appeal whatsoever to me. First, virginity is highly over rated; chastity is its own punishment. Second, virgin what? Wool? Olive Oil? Hereford heifers? I would want to see the fine print.

The Christian ideas of Heaven and Hell are the least appealing, at least as normal described from the pulpit. Spending eternity in a lake of fire as punishment for sins real and imagined but to what purpose and what end? And what do you actually do there? Work a 15 minute shift every three months shoveling coal? To hear some folks tell it Heaven is reserved for a select few (Christian Republicans). Since I don’t hate Jews, homosexuals, abortionists, immigrants, different skin colour than my own, poor or sick people and anyone who does not subscribe to an extremely narrow interpretation of scripture, I certainly needn’t worry about qualifying anyhow.

Seriously, what in H.E.-double hockey sticks, is Heaven like, that one would want to go there? What will a person do? The thought of sitting on a cloud and watching over those I care about and being unable to intervene sounds more like Hell than Heaven. Regardless it is only good for maybe 100 years and then you don’t know them anyhow. 7th cousins and great-great-great grandchildren are not exactly of immediate concern. Reuniting with loved ones will be great for a coffee and a few days to catch up and then what?

And of course, the gold streets, wings, harps (“Welcome to Heaven, here is your harp”. “Welcome to Hell. Here is your accordion”) halos and hymnals may appeal to some but not me. For the best description of Heaven I have ever read, I refer you to Mark Twain “Extract from Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven”.

A preacher is working himself up to a frenzy and demands of his congregation “All those who want to go to Heaven, stand up”. Of course everyone stands up – except for an old guy in the third row. The preacher glares at him. “Everyone who wants to go to Hell, stand up”. No one stands up. “And you, Sir, where do you want to go?” “I don’t want to go anywhere. I like it here”.

Me too.