My great-grandmother’s passing came like a choir song. The chosen hymns were “How Great Thou Art” and “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” The hum of her oxygen tank was the melody. The voices came from her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren alike. And as her life slowly slipped away, the faith I had in life after death grew and burned in the bridge of our song.
I was raised to understand the importance of faith and religion, going to church each Sunday and saying prayers before meals. But before losing a loved one, these rituals often felt obligatory. I was awed by people who seemed so strong in their faith or who were moved by sermons that felt more like history lessons. But during those final days spent with my great-grandmother, I began to appreciate every time my family held hands in prayer, and was moved to tears when we sang hymns at her bedside.
Though my great-grandmother was 104 years old and surrounded by her loving family, there was no easy part of her passing. Alongside this, I have always had a petrifying fear of death. I have found myself spiraling over how the memories, personality, and soul that make up each individual person can so easily be stripped away. But this longstanding fear was quickly transformed into comfort by the time we spent in prayer, and the language my family chose to use. My great-grandmother was not passing away; she was “going home to the Lord.”
By choosing to view death as new life, my mindset began to shift. I noticed how at peace my great-grandmother seemed, and how much comfort it gave her to know that her parents, siblings, friends and family would be waiting for her. The way in which my family talked about death, while emotional and real, also lacked one element; fear. Watching my family stand so firmly in their faith made me realize that faith is more than just a pillar for the individual. It connects us all, and has impacted my own life far more than I realize. As we said prayers and showed empathy and vulnerability, I realized how much being enveloped in my family’s faith had set me up to feel a sense of calmness and peace in the midst of such a life-changing event.
While some may criticize faith as denial of the harsh realities of life, I believe that faith truly means believing in those who have passed. While no one truly knows what happens after we die, the best we can do is believe that because the soul of a loved one is so special, it must transcend human life. Even though “faith” looks different to everyone, I believe it always finds a way of manifesting in times of need, and proves its importance when it is the only thing we have to cling on to.
Faith in heaven and the afterlife is more than just a way to cope with death. It is a testament to our love for the deceased, and believing means believing that love perseveres beyond all forces, even death. And because of my love for my great-grandmother, I have faith that we will meet again one day.
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