metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Incomplete Obituary When you feel as though you have known someone before time began, it is easy to think you will know them after time ceases to exist. I still believe this. Life, consciousness is seamless, timeless. Time is man-made, to count the hours and the days we are conscious on this level; it has no meaning outside of this reality we live in. Love is part of that equation. Having a soul-mate or someone with whom time seems to stand still or have no meaning. These are the people, for whatever reason, we are drawn to because they remind us of our true nature as spirits, entities, without form or time. The things we do while we exist in this world are but things to occupy our �time� and have little or no bearing on our true natures, little to do with who we �truly are�. The obituary read A.W. Spence, born 1932 � died 2004, survived by wife, the former Marilyn (Mari) Smith of Savannah, GA, loving children, grandchildren, blah, blah, blah. It was a long obituary, but not a �complete� one. It left out a detail I know meant a lot to the deceased. It did not say, the deceased called Ms. Metanoia 6 years ago on a warm, early spring day, to say, �Your husband and my wife are talking to each other on their cell phones. I know because I looked at the bills. Tell your husband to stop calling my wife, and will tell her to stop calling him. I am old, I know she is younger than I, but I love her � and she is my wife. My marriage is important to me.� Ms. Metanoia, while feeling that cold, quiet shock drench her body with a veil of sadness, said, �OK. I will talk to him.� Ms. Metanoia felt more for the old man on the other end of the line than she did for herself. Instead, she filed this information away in the dead area inside her heart until she could decide what to do. She did not want to �give away� the old man, she could tell he had a tenuous hold on his pride. So, she talked to her husband without revealing the source of her knowledge. She spoke to him from moons and eons of knowingness. He was stunned and had a rare case of 'not knowing what to say'. In her gut, in her heart of hearts, she knew he would stop calling Mari, and the following months and years confirmed that knowledge. Reading the obit brought a stillness of heart. A connection with an old man she had spoken to only once, but on a deep level of understanding that only the betrayed can feel. She never told her husband how she knew about the phone calls, or who had told her. The old man�s secret shame and sadness will be forever respected. Obituaries state the so-called facts about us, but do not address our eternal truths, the true substance of our lives; our feelings, loves, and heartaches. These important things can not be expressed in words or actions, but only felt within our deepest �soul�. 8:26 a.m. - 2004-08-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||