What if heaven was just a collection of your favorite memories? What would you have a look like? I’ve been binge watching TV show supernatural. And in the episode 16 of season five, Sam and Dean Winchester are both murdered and sent to heaven. The thing is though, that Heaven is then relative to each brother and just got me wondering…
What would my heaven look like?
Watching the episode as Dean Winchester takes his car down the road which in some stories of life after death and near death experiences, has been called a tunnel. And so we find each brother, and their version of heaven as Dean Winchester looks for his brother.
No matter where you are in life or what happens to us, perhaps Love will always find our way to where we are supposed to be. Maybe there are sometimes when we are so lost and confused so clouded, that perhaps we’ve lost our way.
But maybe, maybe there is another way to our salvation.
Maybe salvation, is actually love. Maybe no matter where you are in life or what happens to us, perhaps Love will always find our way to where we are supposed to be.
Maybe there are sometimes when we are so lost and confused so clouded and, perhaps we’ve lost our way. But maybe, maybe there is another way to our salvation. Maybe salvation…….it’s actually love.
Perhaps Samuel Winchester is right. Perhaps heaven is just a replay of your favorite memories. Maybe Heaven is just an instant replay of Aunt Bea’s wedding, or the year that you got that new car ? What would your favorite memories be?
What would your heaven look like? And what if the way out from the hole in which we dug ourselves from, what if the way out from the darkness in which we’ve been clouded ourselves in, is actually that deep place of love. What fascinates me about this TV show, is that in the loud every episode one thing that you see is how deeply the two brothers cared for each other; their love for each other is actually what saves them.
The fact that they love each other, while sometimes being used against them, is actually some what of a strength. And as they dig deep, they are saved every time, by their love and their faith in each other.
I will admit: my heaven would likely be my Brooklyn apartment with my two children. It would be filled with records and books and that old 1933 antique couch. The one with the rose velvet upholstery. I would be sitting on the couch nursing my infant with my oldest right next to me as we watch television together. Those are my fondest memories. Perhaps that is my heaven. And as much as I see mothers on social media posting how much they need a break for me… I really can’t get enough. My heaven is my children. It is me as a mother. Perhaps that is version of what heaven is.
In our memory, there are smells that trigger specific events in her life. I say this, because I have a box at home of my grandmother’s favorite things. Inside this box is a little bottle of perfume she used to wear. And when I look inside it when I open the box, I am reminded of my grandmother, of how she felt and smelled. A piece of my heaven would include my grandmother. And, my brother Johnny. But I wonder… Why is it, but we always equate heaven with being a place where we are reunited with those we love? Maybe we are reunited with the version of themselves that we loved most or miss the most.
Maybe I am going to be reunited one day with my brother Johnny, but may be the best version of Johnny. I think perhaps this post is a bit morbid, yes. It is. I will make a complete confession: there is a piece of candy that reminds me very much of my childhood and is like a little bit of heaven. There’s a candy bar called Hersheys symphony. It is milk chocolate with almonds and toffee chips. This candy bar was one that my grandmother kept in her purse. She always had candy on her, just in case her blood sugar went low. And every now and again, I would see her take out a little piece of that Hersheys chocolate every now and again she would share that with me.
Upon thinking of our own death, we often are faced with dealing with the deaths of those that we love. Play conjure up smells it reminds us of them. We conjure up colors and places and even cars that remind us of who they once were. Maybe Heaven is a melding if these memories in our brain.
Maybe Heaven is what we make our present living breathing life as important. Perhaps the aim in life is to make our eventual Heaven, an interesting one.
I am thinking that each time we get lost, each time we cannot find our way, each time perhaps it is love that saves us.
Although yes, it is quite cliché to say and quite cliché to admit that love truly does save the day. Perhaps it does. Perhaps it is the love within us that we have for our family, or our parents, for our children, perhaps it is these things that save us.