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A YOUNG MAN'S QUEST TOWARD BIRTH

REFLECTIONS BESIDE MY SON'S GRAVE

Each Saturday morning, I visit the grave of my son. It’s been over 1,000 days since Sam’s passing, and ever since that tragic day, I’ve found myself contemplating the moment of our eventual reunion. During each of these visits, I find myself drawn to his headstone, where I had inscribed the words that now seem to echo through my very soul:

TIME IS FLEETING OUR REUNION CERTAIN A LOVING WIFE AND FAMILY AWAITS

These words, meant to offer comfort and hope, have become the foundation of my deepest introspections.


Poised beside his grave, I am often lost in thought, pondering the mysteries of life and death. I have always envisioned the living gazing toward the heavens, yearning for the ethereal peace and the profound preparation that comes in the time between lives, readying for our rebirth. But lately, a new perspective has taken root in my mind—a vision of the souls, like my beloved Sam, longing for their return to the Earthly realm. Could the dead speak of Earth in the same reverent tones we speak of heaven? Do those residing in the soul world, between death and birth, hold the Earth as their shimmering vision of hope and aspiration?


I imagine Sam amidst the serene landscapes of the afterlife, where time flows differently, where the soul is free from earthly burdens yet filled with a different kind of longing—a longing for the tactile, visceral experiences of the living. In this celestial interval, does the earth appear to him as a land of promise and potential, much like heaven seems to us who are still bound to this mortal coil?


Earth might be the desired other world for those who dwell in the heavenly spheres, the destination they strive toward in anticipation of their next incarnation. Perhaps, in that realm, they speak of Earth with the same yearning we reserve for heaven, envisioning it as the place where they will again feel the warmth of the sun, the embrace of loved ones, and the thrill of life’s many adventures.


This thought brings a peculiar comfort. It allows me to envision Sam preparing for his next journey, his soul embarking on an afterlife voyage between death and rebirth. During this interlude, what experiences does he encounter? What wisdom does he amass as he readies himself for a new purpose, life, and rebirth?


I like to think that Sam’s soul is engaged in deep introspection, much like I am. Perhaps he reflects on the life he lived, understanding his past joys and sorrows, learning from his experiences, and readying himself for the challenges and triumphs of his next existence. In this state, he is not idle but actively participating in a divine process of growth and preparation. Now unburdened by the physical constraints of his previous life, his soul seeks knowledge and understanding, preparing itself for the moment it will again take on a new form, a new identity.


The notion that Sam might be experiencing this profound journey fills me with a sense of connection and purpose. It transforms my grief into a contemplative space where I can feel close to him, imagining our souls intertwined in a timeless dance of learning and becoming. Just as I yearn for the peace of heaven, I can now understand that he might yearn for the vivid reality of earth, where his soul will continue its journey, enriched by the wisdom of the ages and the love of those who have gone before.


As I leave, I whisper to his resting place, “Until we meet again, my boy. May your dreams of earth be as vivid and hopeful as my dreams of heaven.” In this moment, the boundary between life and death seems to blur, and I feel a profound connection to my son, knowing that our reunion is indeed certain and that we are both part of a greater journey that transcends time and space.


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