When my grandparents died, many years ago, and only a few weeks apart, I envisioned my grandfather who had passed first rejuvenated as the young groom he had once been - but instead of awaiting his bride at the alter he was awaiting her at the pearly gates. When she passed she was returned to her youthful state, radiant and joyful, reunited with her husband. It was a comforting vision.
Recently I heard of a child's passing which let to a rather different imaginary scenario. The name is deliberately omitted as it could apply to anyone with such a disability; this is not intended to represent their experience and I mean no disrespect.
An original expression by Rev'd Heggie Speller (ULC)
The God and the Goddess stand at the edge of the forest, looking out into the clearing. The God wears heavy robes in autumn gold and russet, he wears a magnificent pair of golden antlers on his head; he has a long bushy beard entwined with ivy, flowers and pine-cones. The Goddess looks rather like the girl's mother did - just before she brought home a baby brother. The Goddess' robes are floaty and pale, silvery like her skin.
The God and the Goddess stand at the edge of the forest, looking out into the clearing. Time does not work here as it does in the mortal world: they are always here, and always guiding the recently deceased in their journey through the forest - regardless of how long the journey might take. A small innocent child's journey might be a mere skip through the woods on a summer's day; an old man, burdened by guilt and regrets might have a trek through a near endless night, hounded every step of the way by fearsome beasts and spectres as he is forced to confront his wrongdoing.
There is always enough time. They have guided every soul that has appeared in the clearing, just as they always will. Every journey is different but they follow similar patterns, none is particularly unique - not even this one.
The God and the Goddess stand at the edge of the forest, looking out into the clearing. They are imbued with a certain amount of omniscience, not that it is usually necessary - they journey usually explains itself and much of the life that went before - but today the Goddess feels the new arrival's rare experience, she will need this insight to begin this particular journey.
This clearing, if you will forgive the pun, is not the physical plane. But a disembodied spirit is a distressing state find yourself in. So here, in the first steps away from 'life' the spirit manifests a form. The form is usually as the spirit was in life only whole and healed from any sickness or infirmities; the aged find themselves in the prime of life, the lame can walk, the blind can see, the mentally impaired are freed of those constraints. This is often a joyful moment but for those who have never experienced things such as independent movement or sight or clear thought it can be confusing, even frightening.
In the clearing stands a girl young girl, not a small child but not yet approaching the cusp of womanhood either. The girl exudes fear and the Goddess intuitively understands why - the girl's earthly existence was an especially difficult one. For all the girl's appearance is of having had several years on the mortal plane she had been born with a disorder which rendered her life experience more of a protracted infancy; everything is new and frightening to her, for all this place is designed to comfort all as the arrive. The girl has the air of a newborn fawn - struggling to stand on spindly legs that have never been used for such a purpose before; the wide eyed fear of a deer caught in the headlights only emphasises this impression.
"My dear, all is well," the Goddess speaks in a low tone as one gentling a skittish creature. "You have fallen asleep in one place and awoken in another, that is all."
The girl is just as confused that she understands what the Goddess has said as she is by being here.
"Your mother, your father, your brother, all your family... they will follow in their time. When you reach the other side of this wood they will be right behind you."
The girl's expression is astonished by the reference to her family, but not nearly so much as in a moment's time. The Goddess asks the girl's name and, having 'heard' the echo of the girl's mother's voice cooing her name from within the girl's memory, the goddess speaks the name aloud.
"I- I- I don't understand," the girl stutters, she has never spoken before. Her voice, barely used in life is suddenly formed into words and it startles her just as everything else has. Language is new to her but somehow it it there, in her newly able mind.
"All is well, child," the Goddess repeats soothingly. "You have fallen asleep in one body and awoken in another, that is all."
"I am... standing? Speaking?"
"Yes, child," replies the Goddess who has moved forward a little - the girl did not see her move but she is clearly now closer, the God is further behind. "When we travel through this place what was before is no more. It is no bad thing - what was broken is mended, what you could not do before you can now."
"Why could I not... before?"
"Every body is different - boys or girls or in-between, tall or short or in-between, fat or thin or in-between - and where some bodies work well, some don't. Some bodies start out okay and develop problems, some are born with problems."
"And I was born with problems?" The girl's face moved into an awkward facsimile of a frown, having never formed the expression before.
"Yes, child," the Goddess knew to leave it there whilst the girl used her new-found faculties to process the information.
"And the problems are gone now because that's... better? Better to not have problems?"
The Goddess can feel the bubbling resentment in the girl. Why should she have had to endure so much in her short life? The Goddess could see in her memories lying immobile while others moved around her, moved her inert body - sometimes, but never meaning to, causing her pain in the process. She hadn't resented it in life for she didn't understand it - now she was starting to. The God could see and feel all this too, and for the first time the God spoke, his voice rumbling deep like distant thunder:
"The differences we have in life are only for a time - when you move past time we move past differences too. Some people have an easy time, some people have it harder but by the time you get to your journey's end all is equal."
It was too advanced a concept for the girl who was still struggling to accept she was standing for the first time, barefoot on soft damp grass; speaking for the first time, to two strange beings she didn't recognise.
"Don't worry, child," murmurs the Goddess. "What was is done, and is no more. Now you can walk and talk and run and play and always hereafter - that is all that matters."
"What... what happens now?" The girl asks eventually. "What am I to do, now that I can?"
"Come with us, child," says the God.
"Come with us, child," says the Goddess.
"Where?"
"Into the woods, to the other side," says the God.
"You lived among trees before, didn't you?" The Goddess asks and the girl nods. "Now walk among them, run your hands across the rough bark, feel the leaves crunching underfoot."
"And my family will follow?"
"For you it will be only a moment, for them it will be many years," says the God.
"They will see you again and be overcome with joy," says the Goddess. Time does not work here as it does in the mortal world: the Goddess has seen the reunion happen already and knows her words to be the absolute truth.
The girl is still unsure but as she is unsure of everything going into the woods with the two strangers before her makes as much sense as anything. She feels wobbly on her feet, the pressure on her soles is strange, but as unfamiliar as the motion feels she takes her first steps and is graceful. The girl moves toward the God and the Goddess and enters the forest with them.
There is always enough time. The God and the Goddess encourage the girl to look and absorb every colour and texture and experience the wood gives her - they stop to smell the wild roses and the movement of a caterpillar, they stand in the stillness and listen to the birdsong. And yet the girl's journey is done in a heartbeat for there are no chasms to cross, no darkness to endure, no ferocious animals to outrun; the girl's sufferings are over.
They emerge from the forest into an open meadow. Wildflowers bob in a gentle breeze, stands of trees offer welcome shade, willows trail in a shallow stream that ripples over polished stones.
"What now?" asks the girl. As she turns the God and Goddess are leading her mother and father and brother out of the forest. Her mother and father are much as she remembers them, but her brother who was just a little boy a moment ago is an older man - for he grew up, got married, had children and saw them grow to adulthood long ago.
Despite them all seemingly arriving together they greet each other with such joy it is as if they have not seen each other in years. The girl stands in confusion and watches the outpouring of love between them. Then, finally, her mother sees her - her smile is brilliant sunshine, her tears of joy are soft summer rain.
"My baby! My baby!" she cries, raining kisses on the girl she has not seen in decades. The mother is overwhelmed at the strength in the arms that were never able to return her hugs before.
"Mummy!" cries the girl in return, so far as any of them are concerned this was her first word, for the God and the Goddess are forgotten about and the family is whole again.
Time does not work here as it does in the mortal world; the family meet and greet those who died long before and those who had yet to be born. The girl's fragile, limited mortal existence fades from her mind like a dream upon waking - she runs in the grass and picks handfuls of colourful flowers which instantly reappear on the broken stems; she paddles in the chill water of the stream. Her family too forget the sufferings they saw her endure and watch the child she has been reborn as with joy. Eternity is a family picnic on an idyllic late-summer afternoon. There is no hunger, nor thirst; no pain, no regret; no need to sleep, no need of any kind at all. They are complete.
The God and the Goddess return through the forest to the arrivals clearing in the mere blink of an eye, ready to guide and reunite more souls crossing from life into the hereafter.
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