Oh the humanity

Every so often, I have a moment of realization that I’m human. There is a finite end to my linear existence. It’s scary. Many things trigger these thoughts, like fleeting memories of my childhood or thinking of Ava as a grandma someday. I sometimes think of those who have gone before me, too. There are ghosts everywhere. Mired in the soft blanket of time, just whispers of a memory. What of the Native Americans that walked the area I live in now? They had such a peaceful existence here. And what about the settlers who came to Texas and drove them away? They are all gone now, too. Some people may think these thoughts are trite. I don’t. I find them very humbling. I want to grab on to time with both hands, keep it close, never let go.

These thoughts have come more often since I had Ava four years ago. I guess it’s just the cycle of life and we all go through it, but it can really smack me in the face sometimes. Ava is a lovely girl and an old soul. I look into her eyes and see the innocence, but also see knowledge of the world beyond her years. Will she have these thoughts one day, too? She has begun to ask about death. She’s worried that her dad and I will die and she’s very curious about when it will happen. A very long time from now, I tell her.

All of this is made much harder because I’m not a religious person in the popular sense. I have no traditional explanations for life embedded into my psyche like most people. I’m more scientific in my beliefs, much to my detriment. But science isn’t a good explanation for death and the afterlife to a four year old. I truly believe the spirit exists when the body no longer lives and that is what I tell her. That no matter what I will always be there. Because I will.