An interesting conversation with my son tonight. It started because my niece, a young 20 something has cancer. So we started talking about how sometimes life seems so unfair. Then he asked me to tell him a story.
I told him about when I was in the third grade, all settled in school by then, with friends close enough that we could walk to each others houses. My grandparents, with whom I thought the sun rose and set, were within walking distance from our house. Life was good. One day my dad came home from work and told us that we had to move. He had been promoted, but we had to move to the town he was going to work in.
You need some background here to see the entire picture. My mom had never lived anywhere else but that town. She knew every nook and cranny, and I believe she was very happy there. If the sun rose and set with my grandparents (her parents), then the stars in the sky were there because of my mom. She was involved in everything -- the library board, march of dimes, my class room mother -- and if that wasn't enough, she kept the house running smoothly for me and my six siblings, plus my cantankerous dad. In my world, my mother was as close to perfect as a mother can be.
That all changed when we moved. In fact, everything changed. My grandfather passed away right before we moved. A hard blow to my mom. We lost my other grandfather and my grandmother the next two years. Plus, we didn't fit in. My dad was mean -- he ran off my mom's friends. He ran off our friends. We couldn't have anyone over when he was at home, because he would make them go home and we would get in trouble for having fun. Looking back, it must have been a very stressful time for him too. He also had to move away from his home town, and begin a new job. All in all, I think most of the family was pretty unhappy about the move.
So back to sharing with my son: he asked about what it was like to move. Then, for some reason, my son asked me how old my mom was when she died. He said that he thought it was cancer that killed my mother, and the fact that she had Alzheimer's -- well she was predestined to have that cancer and it was her time to go. Then he asked me what I thought about my dad, who has been so mean and hurtful for most of his life, still being here.
I thought about that for a moment. I didn't have to think about how I would answer, but only if I should share my thoughts with my son. Well, he did ask, so I told him. I shared that I thought it was awful that my mom had to suffer the illnesses that she did, and that I felt cheated because I would have chosen that path for my dad any day over my mom.
We then talked about karma, and heaven versus hell. My boy thinks my dad has no chance of being allowed into heaven. As for me, I don't know. Perhaps the laws of karma are already working. My dad is old -- 80, but he seems even older to me. His eyesight is failing. My independent stubborn father is now dependent on others for so many things. On top of that, he watched my mother's decline from day one to the very end. If that isn't hell, well, I just can't imagine it could be any worse. So maybe he is already dealing with karma. Maybe, getting into heaven is like my mother used to say, "As long as you have faith at least the size of a mustard seed, you will allowed into heaven."
