The Healing Grace of Absolution

If I could do it all over again, I would have let love enter my soul like a swift and subtle autumn breeze. Yet here I stand at the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge, choosing this as my final resting place. The past still lingers fresh like mournful teardrops of fireflies embedded in the atmosphere. I try to escape the truth, running wildly from reality, but it all circles back to one conclusion. That a human life cannot be taken back, it can never be redeemed or restored. As much I would love to believe in resurrections among souls, I knew it was too much of a naive fantasy. I brought death to my little brother, a death that will be remembered. Whereas mine needs to be forgotten.

If I could do it all over again, I would have recognized and appreciated my blessings. Instead, I ran away like a lost sheep, unsure of any sense of direction. I thought I did not need my family, though their gentle hands were always reaching out, I shoved them away. Though their able arms were always offering to carry me, I walked away from comfort. I remember before his passing, how we would skip towards the vineyard to pick grapes every Sunday. I can still feel the dancing summer sun smiling at our merriment, melting away all worries. Days back then seemed like perfect fairy tale beginnings that ended with happily ever afters. But I soon lost my faith in childhood miracles, and no longer kept my mind wide open.

If I could do it all over again, I would seek out the gift of courage like a blind soldier writhing on the battlefield. My heart has became fast closed and transformed into a stubborn wall, unable to be penetrated. Out of fear, I fled the state in search of a new life. I separated myself from any means of communication, deciding recollections of the past stung like the fingers of thousands of irritated jellyfish. I took shots of isolation and depression every morning as they became necessities that I craved more and more. I said farewell to confident colors of the air, and said hello to grey, dreary lines of pain.

If I could do it all over again, I would have let forgiveness wash over me like redeeming rain that purges sin. I sent away reassuring letters from concerned folks and became a cold-hearted stranger. Lucifer befriended me, setting a trap of guile. I fell in too easily, my mind dangerously vulnerable. He then took advantage and crawled into my thoughts, poisoning them with shame-filled guilt, until I became the cause of my own tragic death. If only God's angels of mercy had come down sooner, I would have flown under their wings safely toward home. I forever doubted the possibility of an afterlife, of a higher force. But now that my eyes have a chance of focusing, I see an encouraging light up ahead. It's the figure of my brother, pure and holy, with a halo hovering playfully about his head. I leap with overjoyed excitement, as I start to believe. He whispers calmly to me, "You are much to hard on yourself, you have one of the most loving spirits of this kind. Jesus has saved a place for you, and look, he is calling your name!" The heavy hole in my heart diminishes and my livid veins feel livened once again. I grab his hand anxiously, speechless in words, as my soul waltzes towards the heavenly Father, the Merciful Saviour that has granted me rest and salvation.