“ There is Life after Death; it’s just different.”
On October 31st, 2021, I got the call no parent wants to get. In the blink of an eye, the life I knew died; my child was dead; I was told that my son was dead. It’s been three years, and I still have to remind myself that my child died. Imagine these words hitting your ears, traveling to your core, and cutting your heart in fragmentation; everything becomes fluid. I don’t want anyone to suffer such a loss. Notice how many times I stated the death of my child. Yes, several times, and I pray you never hear those words. I had to remind myself daily that he was gone, and sometimes, I catch myself living, but I feel something pulling me back and reminding me again that my son is dead. Sometimes, I stop myself from living because it doesn’t seem fair that I should live while my son is in a grave. I wonder if our last meaningful conversation while having our morning coffee was preparing me for his death and if he was telling me to live even after he died. I think so because that’s the kind of man he was. He hated that I worked so much and couldn’t enjoy life.
Before he died, he told me to do what made me happy, so the next day, I drove myself and my mom to Yellowstone. My mother was like a child filled with awe and wonder; she was a child of wonder. I never saw her in such a childlike state, and I felt like a freebird soaring above the tempest that tried to destroy me. That was four years ago. When we returned from that trip, my daughter told me we would visit California with my son and his family. I was so happy to be with my two kids simultaneously, like finding a rare jewel. My counselor told me it was a gift from GOD; He gave me time with my son before he died. I didn’t know it at the time that three months later, my son was going pass away.
I could believe that there could be life after death here on earth, but yes, there is; it’s just different.
I thought about Lazarus’s resurrection and the hundreds who rose again after Jesus died and rose again, leading captives out of hell when He rose again on the Third Day. I can’t help but reflect on the transformation of my life after the death of the life I knew and my precious son. After the Third Year, I wanted to cook and entertain again. We all have our special moments with each of our kids. My second daughter loved long, quiet drives; that meant I drove quietly while she calmed herself. My youngest daughter loved shopping at OfficeMax, and my son and I loved cooking together. I still remember one day before he passed away, as he prepared to cook dinner, he said, “Mom, let’s cook!’ I loved spending time with him in the kitchen! Before Thanksgiving, I woke up from the dead and went to the grocery store to buy a small turkey and all the fixings. I bought a plane ticket for my sister, and said, we are having a Thanksgiving dinner; I almost felt guilty for living again, but my son would not want that for me or any of his loved ones; that was not who he was, and I would be dishonoring his legacy if I did otherwise. We had a nice dinner, and yes, afterward, I cried because it’s like learning how to walk again; the struggle is real!
There is Life after Death; know the Difference.
I’ve learned a lot since my son’s death, and I’ve learned that death is part of life; they can’t be separated here on earth because as the seasons change, so do we. As flowers fade and die, so do we. Yesterday is gone; it’s dead now, and we can’t go back and rearrange the day after reflecting on what we could have or should have done. The day is done. So instead of regretting, and pondering on the many, many mistakes I’ve made, I go to GOD, and repent and ask Him to teach me the number of my days, so that I can live the life He intended for me and bring Him glory, instead of wasting my days on unnecessary things, or people who would exploit me for selfish gain. I also check my heart and ask myself, “What is your motive, and will this glorify God or you?” I’ve learned to check my gauges as one who checks his gas gauge or engine lights. I now check my heart daily to see if anything needs to be brought before the LORD for His filling up by His Spirit.
When my grandmother passed away, my mother refused to live; she died with her, and we also died as a family. I almost followed in her steps, carrying the legacy burden into my family after my son’s death. I know now the difference between life and death is taking every moment captive and making time obedient to Christ as we do with our thoughts; I haven’t mastered time yet, and I believe with each life lesson, I can at least be more intentional with the time I have here on earth with my daughters, and my grandchildren, and good friends and my husband, whoever GOD brings before I meet my son on the clouds. I know now that by living for Christ, and in Christ, I can also leave a legacy for my son’s children and his offspring. Since my son’s passing, his son has given his life to Christ and wants to be baptized.
Lately, I’ve been feeling alive again, as though my winter has passed and my new life is springing up like flowers again; I know that my son will rise again, like a sunflower to me, which is my Ray of Hope. I keep his memory alive by doing what he loved and loving the people he loved, just as we are called to love as Christ loves us. The legacy I want to leave is that there is Life after Death through Christ.