We went back to the cemetery today, where yesterday we were told we were lost. Today we had an all day rain, and we were beginning to get cabin fever. On JB’s agenda was visiting family graves. When I saw these doors on a small chapel that is no longer used, my heart skipped a beat. They are among the most beautiful doors I have ever seen.
Think of all the tears that were shed on this threshold. Were there evil thoughts about the deceased or plots devised against other heirs? How many hearts were heavy with regret? Or maybe there were a few who rejoiced – like the family of my friend’s mother-in-law when she died. They said it was the nicest thing she ever did for anyone. She must have been one mean person.
I wonder if people who don’t care what people think of them when they are alive, care after they have died. Of course that only applies if we believe the spirit lives on after the body has stopped working. I don’t know what happens after death, because there isn’t much scientific data on spirits, but it seems to give my life more meaning if I believe some form of me will continue. I also like to think the spirit of the people I have loved are waiting to great me. Do you think believing that our spirit lives on provides a moral compass for our daily interactions with people?
There is so much we don’t know, and that makes life so exciting.