After Life: Are There Signs From Above?

We will never know what comes after this life. Is the end simply a flash of light followed by endless darkness? Does the soul’s light burn out or does it float about, suspended in time? Do our loved ones try to communicate to those of us left behind? And have we succeeded in the capturing of one’s spirit on film, the all familiar black orb seen drifting past the camera? What happens after life?

We want so desperately to believe that our loved ones live on in spirit that it may be possible that we begin to manifest signs from them. It is overwhelming to accept that death is the end. In our despair we long for symbols and gestures, proof that they are not “gone.” In the horrible aftermath of loss do we create these perceived messages in songs, images and dreams as a means to comfort?

I don’t distinctly recall looking for Konnor. In my grief I was in disbelief, unable to grasp the reality of what had happened to him. I knew he was gone but my struggle was in accepting it. I was distraught, I kept asking why. I was afraid for him. I was afraid that he was alone. As strange as that sounds I felt as though he was still aware. He was gone and I was agonizing over what he went through just prior to passing and what he was continuing to go through even after.

Things began to happen to me. I would be sobbing and one of Konnor’s songs played at his wake would come on the radio. I sought comfort in church and the Preacher spoke of loss, there were so many more.  I never considered that these ambiguous events may have been subconsiously created. That my heart and soul seeking continued connection to my grandson may have taken moments of coincidence, turning them into meaningful events that could ease the ache of loss if only for that moment.

I needed to know Konnor was alright. I needed to know that he was at peace, that there wasn’t just this big empty. That the unknown wasn’t scary. That there was something left of him. I needed to know. I could not accept that he was here for eight years and then… nothing. I had a belief in the afterlife, I always have. Not that we would continue to float around for eternity but rather since our souls were made up of energy and that energy could remain for a time. I thought sooner or later the soul would die out, a gentle extinguishing of light. Unfelt, unseen.

I shared a connection with Konnor, we bonded as grandson and grandmother. I thought that if he was able, he would communicate somehow. I was sure I would feel him near. I was certain he heard me when I talked to him. I found comfort in what I came to believe was his communication with me through his spirit. Some may say my perception of events may have been misguided due to my grief. While this may hold some truth, I believe Konnor did what he could to tell me that he was okay. I believed he was sending me signs because there was no other logical explanation for the things I saw and heard. I believed because to say it was all a coincidence was too simplistic. I believed because knowing he was communicating was easier than accepting death as a big empty hole of nothingness. I believed because I could not imagine Konnor’s light so easily extinguished.

As the agony of my grief lessened so did the sense of his presence. I have not felt Konnor with me in quite some time. The absence of his spirit brings a silence I can’t explain. A void I cannot fill. I can only hope that this means he has found his peace. I have felt that Konnor may have provided us comfort in our grief and once he felt we were healing his transition was complete. He left without so much as a whisper. 

Perhaps there is no other side, perhaps once we die we simply cease to exist. Perhaps memories are all that remain. Although this is a possibility, I still choose to believe that there is something more. I have to. To believe is leaving open the chance that I will again feel his presence and maybe one day see him again. I will always search for him. But for now…

Fly high Konnor Mason, fly high.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Grieving Grandmother to Konnor Mason who passed suddenly at eight years old on November 22, 2015. With this blog I hope to share my thoughts and feelings as I move forward through grief toward hope and healing.

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