“Daddy, what will happen when you die?”
I had not contemplated death in a while.
Was the question answerable?
If we are honest with ourselves,
does it matter?
If we believe in God,
and He exists,
our death will be a journey to the divine.
If we don’t,
and we are right,
we will still journey,
but only to oblivion.
We can’t know,
of course.
We can only smell the flowers,
immerse ourselves in happy times,
do good deeds for others,
spend times with loved ones,
find a comforting bed to sleep in,
and a comforting lover to be with.
I considered the alternatives.
If an almighty Being cared about me,
in person,
one with the universe,
why would he cause me pain?
Why would he bring me the anguish
of death?
What is the reason
for disease?
What is the reason
for war?
Why does evil exist?
If there is no God,
what is my purpose?
Can a life without purpose
be worth living?
“It’s a mystery”,
I answered,
hoping that the lack of an answer
wouldn’t spark a lifetime
of fruitless searching for meaning,
a lifetime spending time wondering,
rather than spending time living,
in a young soul
that hadn’t yet lived. 