It’s creeping up to a year since my dad died.
I have been really tormented–I think these days have been the worst time since his death. I miss him so much. I still have trouble believing he’s gone. I vividly dreamed two nights ago that I felt a hand on my shoulder, the way he used to put his there.
I torture myself by hoping against hope that I will see him again someday, that we will be able to talk, all kinds of stuff. And then I go online and read all the arguments that there is no afterlife, no persistence of consciousness after brain death etc. and they all make sense. I comforted myself for a while with the thought that all the major world religions couldn’t ALL be completely wrong. But then in my Googling I learned that even mainstream religious like Reform Judaism don’t really say much about an afterlife.
I found some communities for atheists and agnostics dealing with bereavement. And in those communities, people talked a lot about how we should take comfort in that our loved ones’ bodies return to the dust and become part of other beings, that they remain part of the world insofar as the memories they left and their children, and that nobody is ever truly *lost* in that sense. I don’t find that thought comforting at all. The chicken I ate tonight “lives” in me–and not only do I have no awareness of it whatsoever, but what good is its presence in me to the chicken’s family? My father to me was my ability to interact with him, verbally, physically, etc. and get a response. That is gone. There is no comfort in conservation of energy or material, or anything else.
I miss my dad. Please God, if you exist, please let there be something after this life, and let us be a family again. Please tell me there was a meaning and a purpose to all the suffering my dad went through, and let us love each other again.