God-Clouds

A few times each week, I walk home from work. The six-mile walk takes two hours and thirteen minutes for me to complete, which is more than enough time to decompress and entertain the hundreds of notions that drift in and out of my mind along the way. Some of these notions linger. I begin to relax into my walk, entering a zone in which my mind becomes less aware of the task at hand and begins a journey of its own. On these walks, I often think about the great mystery of life. My own spirituality causes me to wonder about life and its purpose, and death and its purpose. Is this life all there is or is there something more, perhaps another place we go to after we die?

My walk has become my sanctuary. I walk along the water’s edge feeling the intoxicating river breeze, like a velvet massage working its way over and through my entire mind, body and soul, and I reflect. Sometimes along the way I call my friends for lighthearted conversation. Sometimes I laugh at silly dogs that are wading through the water and playing fetch with their human counterparts. Sometimes I sit on the stairs leading down to the water and cry until I’m empty; and tired.

Yesterday, as I walked I gazed up and became mesmerized by a cluster of clouds filling the sky overhead. An opening in the middle of the clouds allowed for the sun to peak through creating a burst of white light, which gave way to streaming rays of translucent beams stretching over the Boston skyline and reaching to the surface of the Charles. The sight was humbling.

Throughout my life, whenever I have witnessed clouds and sun rays of that nature, my brain has automatically told me that God was peaking through the opening, reaching down and spreading love and healing in the hearts of those in need of it. I remembered that yesterday as I walked along the water, transfixed on the clouds, and I became filled with comfort, reassurance and peace. I became completely enveloped in self-love, love for God, love for my husband, Chris, love for life and for all humanity. In the midst of that love, I was filled, simultaneously with great sadness and resign, all consuming euphoria, and forgiveness. Once again, I gazed at the burst of clouds and softly spoke the words that had filled my consciousness and my entire being, relaxing me to my core and outward over my entire body and throughout my soul.

“I forgive you, God.”

Five minutes later a brilliant sun shower illuminated the Esplanade, soaking the grass and walkways and creating ripples on the Charles. I stood watching from under the safety of an immense weeping willow tree for the duration of this ten-minute sodden interlude, all the while reflecting and pondering the events of the past year and a half.

I contemplated the anger I have been feeling about all that has passed and about all that is to come without Chris by my side to share my life. I thought about the horrors of disease and sickness for those who have witnessed them and the sadness and helplessness of those who have experienced them first hand. I know bad things happen. I know they always will. I know I had my husband, my best friend in this world, exit my life at the very point in my life when I learned I had the capacity to love wholly and selflessly. I now know that I have the capacity to bestow divine forgiveness.

My heart is still broken. I still laugh every day. I still cry every night. I still love Chris with every fiber of my being. I’m still scared. I still wonder if those we have loved and who have loved us remain in our lives in some way, guiding us, helping us make choices and decisions and keeping us safe from harm.

Last week, on my twin nieces’ 7th birthday, their grandmother (Chris' mother) went to their house to eat birthday cake with them. She was helping Emily, one of the twins, send electronic greeting cards from Hallmark.com . On the card, was a drawing of an empty pizza crust that Emily could dress with various ingredients to complete her virtual pizza. When the card was finished, Bonnie decided to print a copy of it. She clicked the "print" button which loaded a page entitled "Instructions for Printing". Under the title were form fields labeled “to” and “from”. These fields are normally empty, but this time, instead of being empty, the “from” already contained a name and the name was "Christopher". Everyone stood and stared in disbelief, Beth and Bonnie in tears, and nobody could think of a valid explanation for the appearance of Chris’ name on the card. Even Bonnie's generally skeptical husband, Robert, was impressed. Although Bonnie deleted the name several times and refreshed her internet browser, “Christopher” kept reappearing in the box. She typed Emily’s name over it one more time and printed the card. The page emerged from the printer with the name “Christopher” still on it.

The following night, I dreamed that several of my family members died. After taking their last breaths, their souls rose out of their bodies, drifted upwards and disappeared. Later in my dream, knowing their souls were okay, I kept seeing these family members materialize. I ran toward their outstretched arms and found myself surrounded in the most peaceful, filling, all-encompassing embraces I have ever felt in my life. I awakened calm and peaceful. Nobody knows what happens to us after we die. Can the deceased reach back to their loved ones? Can they reassure their families and friends that they are okay and that they still love us or do they simply cease to exist for the remainder of eternity? Nobody knows.

A fact is that Chris’ name appeared on a birthday card to his two beloved nieces on the exact date of their 7th birthday, their first birthday without their Uncle Chris in their lives (at least not physically). A fact is a fact, even if it cannot be explained.

Yesterday, walking along the Charles and gazing into the clouds, my “God-clouds”, I learned that I still have room in my heart where I previously believed there was none, to forgive God and to accept that he did not cause Chris’ cancer and then take him away from me, rather, he saw Chris’ cancer and welcomed him into his healing Kingdom.

And God, bring peace to our stormclouds and calm to our fears.
-Scott Sarabia (my sweet, beloved brother)