Nostalgic

This week’s Weekly Photo Challenge asks us to post a photo which brings a sense of nostalgia to us.

For some reason I have been thinking a lot about life and our mortality lately.  When my mom posted this photo on Facebook, it brought such a sense of nostalgia, I just knew that it was the right one for this challenge.  It’s a photo of me (on the left), my sister (who passed away in 2005 in the middle) and my brother (on the right) WAY back when.  It brings back so many memories and I wish with all my heart we could once again sit down together for a meal or just to talk nonsense!

familie

No longer a mere mortal

You’ve imbibed a special potion that makes you immortal. Now that you’ve got forever, what changes will you make in your life? How will you live life differently, knowing you’ll always be around to be accountable for your actions?

I suppose some will love the idea of living forever; going from one era to the next, see the change in society and how we adjust to new inventions and such. That’s not for me though.

I really wouldn’t want to be immortal, not on earth in any event. Just the idea that I could never truly love someone and grow old with them is enough to make me cringe. It must be horrible to fall in love, share a life and build memories, just to see the person you adore grow old and die right in front of your eyes, all while you remain forever 35.

If I had no choice and I have to be immortal on earth, I suppose I would do all I can to fight for equality and freedom. I would dedicate my days to solely fighting for the greater good, telling people of a much better life that awaits us after this one.

Immortality in the here-after: now that is something that I really look forward to. I guess knowing that there is an eternity of love and joy that awaits us is what makes death less scary for me.

What do you think?

A life is lost, a soul reclaimed

Photo: whatislistening.com

I first saw him yesterday morning. Standing on the corner, his posture spoke of a defeated man. He turned and raise his face to the morning sun, the wintry rays of sunshine turning his tears to shimmering rivers. The rivers traveling down the landscape that was his face, found a final resting place in a bushy white beard.

I last saw him yesterday afternoon. Standing next to the hearse, the coffin blurred out by his tears. He once more turned his face upwards, they had to hurry. The day was running away from them, disappearing into the ocean. The funeral had to be over before the final light vanished and night came in to hide the black hole in his heart. The setting sun turned the world into a marshmallow pink, a warm mountain wind would bring rain over night.

We turned the corner and the procession disappeared from my sight. The prayers called to heaven by family and friends silenced by the hustle and bustle of life that carries on.

A tragic yet realistic reminder that we do not know the number of days in our life. Spend every day in gratitude and let those who live in your heart know that they are loved.