What do we leave?

I wrote a poem not too long ago in which I railed at creditors for their efforts to collect. Ironic since one of the things that I do as an attorney is collection work. However, I read it to my spouse who then worried that when I was gone that those selfsame creditors would then come after her. That, my dear, is the risk of dying last. And maybe that is why so many spouses pass away soon after the passing of their husband or wife. Cindy expects to die after me. That has always been rather comical to me since I always assumed that she would go first. I guess we are at the age where you wonder about such things. Cindy would want me to point out that we are not the same age and that she is, in fact, younger than me. La de da.

Cindy is holding on to those nine months between our birth days, in the brief hope that those nine months will enable her to become immortal (at least respectively). Well, no one gets out alive, babe. If you enjoy the world in which we sojourn, let us hope that the world to come is better. And more than just dirt and worms, dirt and worms.

A pleasant thought. "To be or not to be, that is the question." That may be the most profound utterance in the world of literature. Ignoring for the time being the topic of suicide, the consideration of where we go when once we pass on from this vale of tears has found no greater exemplification.

It should all give us pause at this moment and cause us to wonder how we would better it. And it gives Shakespeare his place in literature, if nothing else he wrote does so.

And don't be fooled, we all think about it, even those of us who have dropped the creative confrontation with the topic and have laid claim to the concept that there is no other place to which we go.

If there is no place to which we go after this world, then I would suggest that you make better use of the days you have. Because if this is all you have, then you are wasting a ton of it. No one has lived up to the responsibilities of that idea. "Vanities, vanities, all is vanity."

Of course, if you believe that there is another place to which we go, then your living of your days on this world must look to somewhere else for the reason to live. If your living is more than what you decide to do for the day, then you must look outside yourself for the reason for your existence.

By way of postscript, I have never found any atheist who didn't rail at others or consider that he suffers from some trauma or perceived slight. If there is nothing, then why worry about the delusions of others. Do they injure you? How could they? If there is nothing outside this physical universe, then you are free, and need not stake your position. Your position is just as meaningless as that of others. And you will pass into dust and blow away as we all do.

The scientist/agnostic is in no better position. He might be honest, but no closer to the truth. Waiting for his proof, he waives his rights to find through belief. His hope is equally damning, since it admits no favorite.

Doubt is always present. I admit it. But in my better times, I do see the presence of more than just the flashing of colors through the window glass. And I do feel the eternal presence of the living God.

"There is more in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed in your philosophy."

Way to go, Will.