What do you think happens to us after we die and the body decays?
Maybe you stay. Maybe you just watch everything unfold after you're gone, and it hurts you almost as much as everyone else seems to be hurting. You see the devastation, you see the gap that your absence has caused. The people you love start skirting around certain places, or they take the long way home to avoid anything that reminds them too much of you. It's not that they don't want to think about you. They just can't, not right now.
Weeks turn into months and it starts to change. Your mum smiles when she trips over that pair of shoes you left out. She shakes her head, because you were always such a nightmare about cleaning up after yourself. Your sister walks into your favourite coffee shop and orders your mocha. Your dad walks the dog through the graveyard and finally stops to say goodnight.
And years later, your bestfriend still raises a glass on your birthday - they always will. They look for you everywhere - the robin that sits and watches as your Mum plants out the spring bulbs, the rainbow is a clear sky, the occasional waft of honeysuckle on the breeze. Maybe it's you, maybe it isn't. All that matters is that, in this instant, to these people, they can hold some version of you safely in their hearts. You aren't gone. You will never be gone. You're just somewhere else.
Weeks turn into months and it starts to change. Your mum smiles when she trips over that pair of shoes you left out. She shakes her head, because you were always such a nightmare about cleaning up after yourself. Your sister walks into your favourite coffee shop and orders your mocha. Your dad walks the dog through the graveyard and finally stops to say goodnight.
And years later, your bestfriend still raises a glass on your birthday - they always will. They look for you everywhere - the robin that sits and watches as your Mum plants out the spring bulbs, the rainbow is a clear sky, the occasional waft of honeysuckle on the breeze. Maybe it's you, maybe it isn't. All that matters is that, in this instant, to these people, they can hold some version of you safely in their hearts. You aren't gone. You will never be gone. You're just somewhere else.
Liked by:
igotamatch
becky
Herbert Henry Asquith