The silver and grey casket rested on its stand above the hole into which it would soon be lowered. An arrangement of white hydrangeas rested on top.
I looked into the space underneath and thought, so this is what it all has come to; this is where your weary old bones will remain forever; this is what we all have to look forward to. Of course, by the time anyone's bones reach this point, they are beyond caring and they certainly have no use for them any longer. It's just a dose of reality.
We know how this all works. We know no one escapes this process, and yet when you actually peer into that final parking place for someone and you notice the crowds, row upon surrounding row of others who have gone before, I don't know how you can not imagine who might be standing around peering into your space when your turn comes.
These are bones we are talking about. Whether this is just a sobering thought or cause for panic and depression depends on how much you've invested in these bones being the sum total of who you be.
Some wonder, some hope, some doubt, but some know there is more to us than bones; that what animated those bones continues on a journey already begun.
For those who know,
no explanation is necessary.
For those who don't know,
No explanation is possible.
The bones conversation, the limit of their usefulness and the current scenario we may have wrapped around them, best be held as a reminder to use our time wisely. No one's bones gets out of this alive:
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.....
But the Soul is gratified when you have maintained and lived the knowing distinction.
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