I ran out of girl scout cookies yesterday. It was a sad day. Given, I did only buy 3 boxes, and I tend to eat about 2/3 of a box in one sitting. But the point is, I had, and I no longer do.
Life is like a box of girl scout cookies - there comes a point when you don't have it any more. To draw a comparison along the routes of two blogs I've already read and plagarized, the view of an afterlife is like knowing that there will always be girl scouts there at the grocery store selling them every time you go. I'm almost certain the next time I go, those girls (and probably more importantly, their mothers) won't be there to sell me delicious cookies for way too much money.
The value of the girl scout cookie comes not in how delicious it is; it most definitely is. The value is in the rarity of it; it's a special treat. And I think I almost prefer it that I don't have samoas right now (which I mistakenly told the girl scout mother "Gimme 2 samoans," which to me is much funnier). Because that means that the next instance I get them, I'll have the great memory of the last time I had girl scout cookies. In other words, the cookies are not SO fantastic that the anticipation isn't worth it every time. And I've just destroyed the analogy. But that's life, eh?
Unfortunately, I found out that I'll be having a new experience soon. My grandmother (we call her nauna, due to a cousin I have that made the decision 10 years before I was born) has been struggling with cancer for the past 10 or 15 years. I found out recently that the treatments done previously didn't work, and the new treatments are just meant to hold off the suffering for as long as possible. But basically, as my brother put it, cancer wins. I've not heard a time frame, but it sounds like everything is going pretty well, overall. This is a new experience for me, because the only person close to me that's ever died was my other grandma, and I was soemwhere in the age 5 to 8 area. It wasn't that I didn't understand death, it was just that she lived in california, we lived in arkansas, and my experiences with her were very limited.
I've thought before how I'd handle the death of a loved one, but never through the "no-god goggles." Unfortunately, I'm finding nothing profound or new. I feel about the same as when I was looking through the god goggles. The solace I found with an abstract idea such as heaven (as I understood it) seems no more or less consoling then the celebration of her life. Anyways - my only useful thought is to enjoy that last cookie as best she and all of us can.
You know, I find death much worse and better at the same time now that I'm looking through my new sleek "No-god goggles". Better because I know I'm not going to hell, and worse because I know that all thought and experience end for me. Truth, to me, is far more important than any comforting falsities. There are two types of people, those who want to know that they have cancer if they have it, and those who don't.
Posted by: Isaac | March 11, 2008 at 03:22 AM