Where Is She?

Losing someone so close to me at such a young age began my initial search for life after death. I wanted reassurance that my Mom was somewhere...anywhere...other than in the frozen ground that we had left her in at the tiny community cemetery down the road. Being only 8 or 9 years old and having no conventional religious practice in place in our family, I really didn't know where she was.


I still vividly remember her funeral 33yrs later, how strange I felt, how void of emotion I was. As I sat there in the front row of chairs in the hall beside my little sister and Dad, all I could think of was wanting to play tag outside with the girls from my Brownie group. They were all there because Mom was our leader. The feeling of guilt would wash over me every time someone would come over to hug me and say they were sorry for my loss. I wasn't sad for some reason, never shed a tear that day and actually didn't until many years later. It was as if my gut was telling me not to worry. 


It wasn't that big of a deal, she wasn't REALLY gone after all. She just wasn't here...

A Simple Introduction

Hello there! *smile*

My name is Rhonda and I grew up in northern Alberta. My little sister and I were the only children in the family. Our dad was a proud 'dirt farmer', his own words, who really had no belief system when it came to worshiping a higher power. In fact, I remember times when my grandmother would come to dinner and insist on saying grace. While she prayed, my dad would interrupt her with "The food on this table was put here by MY hand, no one else's!" We would quietly snicker to ourselves as my grandmother would completely ignore Dad and continue to pray while he passed the roast chicken to us in a huff.

Our mother died when I was 8 years old, so we don't really know if she followed any personal faith, but we do know that her parents didn't. Her mother spent more time volunteering at her local Legion than any church in the area. My great grandmother was part of the Seventh Day Adventists. I do remember her following some special diet that my aunt told us had to do with her religious beliefs.

After our mom passed, my dad's mother would have us stay with her for summer and holiday visits. During these visits, she would take us to her Catholic church and at one point she even secretly baptized us in her bedroom with some holy water she'd smuggled out. *smile* Apart from the odd 'church picnic' afterwards, that was pretty much the extent of our education on religion!