Emily Rooney

Limbo of Loss

by Emily Rooney

I have given myself time to sit with my grief. To make sense of the limbo that comes with the passing of a loved one. I asked myself the age old question – Where do we go when we die?
Undeniably, from my point of view, Death is not an end but a transition. I feel it.

When I find myself surrounded by the natural world and in touch with the cycles of life. I am filled with relief in knowing that my body will return to the earth and my soul will continue on to the unimaginable non-material world. There is a realm in which we cannot perceive. There, just beyond the limitations of our senses, lies the souls of those we have loved and lost. They are never gone if we choose them not to be. Every once in a while, I catch glimpses of the inbetween – the overlap.

Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Excerpt from Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant

“…The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, and if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas’d the moment life appear’d.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, and to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier.
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and know it.”

Excerpt from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman