The sky, the stars, the moon, and you.

I have trouble dealing with the idea of Heaven.

Throughout my life, I have never followed a religion; I wasn’t raised with one, and I had the freedom to choose what I wanted to believe in. For a while, I dabbled with Buddhism before ultimately deciding that I was agnostic. The idea of God seemed plausible, but I didn’t see the need to follow a set religious path.

My mom believed in God. She prayed to him, asked others to pray to him for her, throughout her illness. Watching my mom pass away left me with the impression that God probably didn’t exist; if he did, why wouldn’t he help her? She believed in him like many others. She was a purely good human. What about her made her unable to save?

On a different note, I’m also a fairly logical person. The idea of people existing after death never set well with me because it didn’t make sense. My outlook on life is very black and white, especially since I’m at a stage in my life where I have a big, black void left behind by my mother’s death.

Even though I’ve had trouble accepting the idea of Heaven, I find comfort in an (arguably) scientifically inaccurate way of looking at the loss of my mom. I remember reading somewhere that we’re all basically made of stardust. Since matter is neither created nor destroyed, we go back to the stars when we die (so to speak). 

My mom can still live on as this celestial, heavenly idea or being, and I can always look to the sky and remember who’s always looking out for me. 

 

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