Because of the recent death of my Mother, beliefs, religions and all such practices are uppermost in my mind. I know my Mother had the normal accepted beliefs of many people, those who have grown up with prayer and the bible. No matter what bible, what Holy Book you know, there are many stories in the various religions overlapping in some way. For every one, every religion, you need to accept what you are told with little physical proof. Or, 'hard evidence' as others might say. Otherwise, it would not be called a 'belief' would it.
Once an adult, my Mother did the normal things, married before a priest in her church, churched herself and her new born babies. She believed there is a God, or maybe accepted without really questioning religious concepts she was told during her childhood years. Without her being a regular churchgoer, or it ruling her life in any way, it ran along comfortably in the background of her life. Little bits, or quotes would often come out. Many people would say that is the behaviour of a lapsed believer, but she followed the general teaching as far as she could without religion being central to her life. She sent us, her children, to Sunday school, we took part in the religious festivals and so on. Until, just over twenty years ago, when she was coming up to seventy years of age, my brother died un-expectantly. He was only forty seven, it was a great shock to us all, a sudden heart attack, with no previous history. In fact he had a medical examination the week before, where they found him in A1 health.
He was her first son, but second child of her three children, I being the eldest. He lived with his second wife, an American, in Darwin, Australia. He died of natural causes they say, although his widow, with a mysterious past and no family of her own admitted to, or in her life, had him cremated with suspicious speed. She let no one know of the tragedy as it happened early that morning, my Father phoning him that night, exposing the dreadful news. So instead of a Happy Mothers Day message, there was the shock of a belated death announcement. The funeral went much the same way. As my Father made travel plans, only three hours away in New Zealand, the widow merely said, "you were all mentioned at the ceremony". He died on Mother's Day the 10th May, I believe, cremated the next day. A double blow for my Mother I think, the fact he died so young and, on Mothers Day. As well as no one had the chance to say goodby, or have questions answered about his health, or rapid cremation. To this day there are too many unusual and unexplained questions unanswered. Answers we can never find, as the wife disappeared immediately after, taking not only the proceeds of their house and land, but of my parents house and furniture too, unwisely built on my brothers' land.
After that, unable to make sense of his death, or the circumstances surrounding it, my Mother lost her faith. As I'm sure many before her have done, she said "there can be no God, to let that happen". Ever after, she would not hear of how there could possibly be a God, not without a plan, or without some guide in operation. Not without judgement between good people and bad. Because he certainly was a good man. Reliable, loyal, easy going and hard working. Many might say her faith was not strong enough, which I suppose it wasn't. Gradually over the next twenty odd years, she compounded her lack of faith by asserting we were the same as any other living thing. We died, we decayed and that was the end of it. There was no heaven, no hell, no God. My Fathers' cancer and death less than two years later did nothing to change her views. Looking back Terry's death broke my Mothers faith, but my Fathers health as he was never the same after my brothers death. If we had allowed it, my Mother would have had him just had my Father taken away by the undertaker, with no ceremony whatsoever. Such was her lack of faith, her lack of any belief. What does it matter she said. Perhaps I was selfish, but I and my much younger brother needed a proper goodby this time. We needed to honour him and his life.
There comes a time when any of us might question what we are, how came we here. Certainly, I did. I found my own spiritual faith after a time lost. I suppose I am a spiritualist, if you must give it a title. I am a mixture of Spirituality/positive thought and Eastern religions as in Budismn. I believe, as it says in the bible, that there are many paths to God. Whatever God you think exists, whatever energy in which you believe. I believe that people should be allowed to worship as they see fit. As long as they are good people, kind to others, doing no harm, I believe in freedom of worship. Who is to decide who is right, or wrong. Or indeed, if there is any right or wrong.
I have no fear of death, I know we go on, that there is a higher power we can tap into, an energy around us to help us survive this life. I believe absolutely that I will meet all of my loved ones again. I wanted some of that for my Mother, especially as she approached her own death. I could think of nothing worse than to believe all that was ahead, was a void of darkness leading to decay. That would be a frightening thought. Just about terrifying I thought. Yet I'm not sure I succeeded in giving her anything to hold onto. I could feel her fear at facing....nothing......
I opened the conversation with her many times in the last year of her life. Explaining what I had seen, or experienced, but it was just so many words to her. At the end, she said she would like to believe that something so nice was possible. That to be met by your loved ones, who take you on, might actually happen...but she didn't see how it was possible. Despite me assuring her that Terry, her son would meet her. Something I felt with great conviction. During the last few days, when she was almost past recognising any of the family, she began speaking to someone no one around her could see. She said several times 'what is that light?', those from the other side often come surrounded by light, as it's the light we head into on passing. So, that gave me some hope for her peace. Another time, I believe she saw two men, probably....I like to think, my Father and my brother. "Are they my boys?" she said. As those who have passed, are often seen as young again. Then, she said " is that my little dog? So, something was happening for her, or at least, so I like to believe. I hope with all my heart it is true, that she experienced comfort at the end, and lost the fear of the void. Her fear of darkness and decay. Of course, decay we must, but that is only the shell of us. We, our soul, our spirit goes on.
May we all find the peace and support we need. As I hope and believe my Mother has done.
