In the Celtic tradition, they talk about ‘thin places,’ a thin place is where you can almost touch, sense even smell heaven. Heaven to me is like when the outside and inside temperatures reach a certain point, condensation appears on the window, yet unknown to us the droplets of water are around us all the time, yet we don’t see them until the conditions are exactly right.
Heaven, I believe is not above us in the clouds, God does not sit on some cloud with angles and archangels flying about attending to God’s every whim. Heaven is an altered reality, it’s is all around us, we just don’t have the ability to see it yet.
Those that have died are with us all the time, a mere hair breathes away, some would say that our loved one who has died is closer to us in death than they were during their time with us in this reality.
Death is never easy; we will always have that ache within us, that person’s shape, smell, voice still exists within our soul, it craves to sense it again, cries into the reality that for a while at least it has to do without it.
I see that with each death there is a new birth into a new reality a newer experience – I wonder what the next death has in store for each of us.