Yesterday Grandma surrendered to the immense relief which is death.

The whole of our family was packed up in the car, ready to travel the 7 hours to say our last farewells. After 10 minutes in the car father’s brother called and said she was gone. Dad repeated “I should have gone earlier, I should have gone earlier”.

We travelled the 7 hours and walked into the room filled with death. Seeing a dead person is intense, surreal and bloody weird at the same time. I constantly thought I saw her ribcage move up and down because normal for humans is to breathe. But she wasn’t. Her hands clasped the purple flowers and her eyes looked not in peace, as I thought they would, but she looked like she was in agony.

I believe in biocentrism and know now that she is out floating somewhere, perhaps to nest in another body. But still, a body without a soul is merely a shell and it is so obvious to me that it is not grandma who is laying there, but it’s solely her body, grandma as I knew her had left. Perhaps to dance in the green woods of the North, collect spider-webs and weave beautiful carpets.

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