I’ll repeat, you get cancer, even cancer with high hopes of recovery, and you start thinking deeper than you ever did before. You think about your mortality, about what kind of person you’ve been and still can be. You think about the spiritual world, the afterlife and yes, God, as I wrote a couple weeks ago.
God has become ever more kicked around like a political football since Charlie Kirk was murdered for simply exercising his right to free speech. But my God will not be a football. Raised Christian, I swerved away from mainstream religion but never to atheism. My spirit guides have always been there. It’s just that it took a ghost and then later, a disease to get me to see them more clearly.
This enlightenment of sorts has helped me be more open to others and their beliefs. I guess getting older has something to do with it too. A certain tolerance and acceptance.
Today as I was on my much needed post-writing walk (to clear my mind and keep my body fit) through Mt. Feake Cemetary, I saw my Guardian and the rest of the souls there. I always get a warm chill (I know, I know) when I walk by him.
But just before that I walked by a man playing Going Home on the bagpipes. As I came over the hill, Mr. Shepherd above not yet in view, the man was standing at a grave that I can only guess might have been his father, brother, or brother in arms. It was another one of those magical moments I look forward to ever since my daughters and I encountered a joyful ghost on George Hill in Lancaster, MA (also per the post linked above).
The man was not stuffing his face, pounding cold ones watching the Pats at around 1:45 today. He was playing this most beautiful song for someone I assume he loved and misses. I just gave him a nod and thumbs up and went on my way.
What a beautiful and haunting song.
Bagpipes and Taps- great reminders for the living of the finality of death.
Gluck with your treatment Gary, keep up the good fight!
Will do, Jon!