What I want most when I am dead

This is not something I have ever really thought about until now. This evening, as part of my post-workday routine, I checked into my favorite blog, Börja Om, and the author was literally fuming at the type of comments that were being left on another blog, Vimmelmamman, as a response to her latest entry. What had transpired the moblike reaction was a letter that "Vimmelmamman" had posted from a widower to yet another blogger, a 36-year old music teacher who had lost her battle with cancer this past summer. Along with her husband, she is survived by two young daughters.

The widower has since his wife's passing fallen in love with another woman and gladly expressed his happiness for having had this woman enter into his and his daughters' lives. Apparently his daughters had taken so well to his new partner that they felt they could call her "Mamma".

After having read his letter, a number of people went simply ballistic; so much so that is was scary surrealistic. I, on the other hand, clearly remembered how tears had rolled down my cheeks when the widower had early last summer informed his wife's followers of her death and his extraordinary loss. My reaction to this turn of events was marked with nothing but joy for him, his daughters, and even his wife, whom I believe is somewhere in the spirit world and thrilled to see her family moving on and focusing on the positive side of life, and living it to their fullest.

And, gratefully, I dare say that most of the those who commented to this newly published letter were also optimistic. But those who disagreed really got me thinking. The most common negative reaction was that people were so afraid of being replaced. They couldn't bear the thought of their spouse loving someone else, at least so soon (yes, there apparently is a time limit). Even worse, they claimed, would be to have been forgotten by their children.

O.K. I can sort of understand that type of spontaneous reaction, but if one were just to go back and really listen to what they just said or wrote: Afraid that they would be replaced after their deaths?! I mean seriously: even the most ardent marital vow is referred to as "'til DEATH do us part", not "'til DEATH AND THEN AT LEAST FOR 1-10 YEARS AFTERWARDS do us part".

Ownership... Desire... Fear... Pain... And it becomes so clear to me that this is what the yogic philosophies are trying to teach us! How can we possibly place demands on those we are supposed to love more than anything from our graves? I am surely not the only one who has wondered what it would be like to lose my husband or my children? And when I think about that uncomprehensible pain, I doubt I am the only one who has selfishly said that I am less afraid of my own death than the prospect of having to survive the death of one of my loved ones.

But I swear that if I were to die, I wouldn't want my husband or children to suffer even a microsecond, should there be some alternative way for them to lighten their burden. And should love enter into their lives, no matter at what point, I could only pray that they would jump at the chance to accept it and continue on in their pursuit of happiness.

And should my children experience enough love, compassion, and security that they could call someone other than me "Mom", well then I would consider myself to be one lucky spirit.