Monday, January 15, 2024
Monday, January 1, 2024
Monday, December 25, 2023
Believe it or not, Charles Dickens wasn't just making up something fun. He'd tuned in to a job we must do part-time. In our line of work, we do have to go meet and greet the recently deceased to help them cross-over and make it through their life transition so they aren't going alone.
The other part of our job is that we sometimes get called in to participate with Christmas Eve conversions. Honestly, we can't convert most people, and so as the final spirit to visit it would be my job to make those forget if they refuse to find their heart and to care about others.
So, on Christmas Eve, should I appear amid mist and fog, and you awaken to find yourself in a cemetery, that doesn't necessarily mean you're transitioning from life, but hopefully transitioning to caring about others.
Wednesday, December 6, 2023
Hi. Death here, AKA The Grim Reaper. I try to lighten my load by sharing comic strips about Death - although some are way off the mark, but still kind of funny. But, I have a note for you all:
I'm trying. I really am. But, this is a hard job.
I don't think people understand what's truly going on here, and always make me out to be the bad guy because of my gig. That's not fair!
I may be the one who shows up when you die, but I'm not the cause of your death. I don't just show up, touch you for no reason, and POOF! you're dead. No, you lead your life and create your circumstances.
You see, I used to wait and watch. Time came, I appeared with a greeting, the person would take my hand, and we'd walk together into the next life. I appeared to HELP that transition to the next life. It was pretty simple. Once on the other side, there's things that go on that's above my pay grade; but, while with me, people and I would talk about their life, talk about what's going on, and the part I know about that's coming up.
And then it got worse. The living began to lean more on murder, drugs, acting crazy in traffic - all of that. Where I used to wait to do my job, I'm now overwhelmed by rushing to scenes of gunshots, car wrecks, overdoses, war. I no longer show up because it's time. Now, I show up because I HAVE to. And it's too often.
Crossing over can be new, scary, confusing, and intriguing! But, because of me, folks never have to go alone.
And at some point, the harm caused by the living got blamed on me. The living kills, maims, harms. I'm stuck with the aftermath of that, taking some folks who are no long ready because time has come, but taking folks who are heartbroken because their time was cut short by someone else.
Dear The Living,