Dreams, death, and the short version of me as an atheist

I am lucky (or cursed) enough to remember, in vivid detail, the dreams I have immediately before I wake. Sometimes I wake up with my heart racing in a sweat around 3 AM in the middle of a horrific dream or I awaken around 8 AM (the time I usually rise from bed) from a colorful and bizarre dream. Until now, I rarely have reoccurring dreams. I once had dream a few times about a badger biting my ankles and I occasionally dream about my brother's pending nuptials. Ever since I moved to TX, I have the same dream nearly every time I sleep. I dream that I am back in MN for some untold reason and I have to drive all the way back to TX. I see people that I left behind and explain to them that I moved to TX and it is understood that I have to journey back. I am filled with anxiety and dread about driving 1200 miles.

"The drive is over," I reassure myself upon waking, "you are here in TX now, after months of anticipation. You are all moved in to your apartment. You have been here for over a month now. It's all over."

I wish I knew why this dream keeps plaguing me. I also dream about extraterrestrials, space travel, running from an unseen danger, worm holes, Maxine, my dead grandfather, poisonous beverages, and mysterious forces plotting destruction of the planet. Maybe I should lay off reading Carl Sagan?

Speaking of Maxine and my grandfather, mortality is sobering. I miss the ones I have lost to the inevitable more than I can express in words. I long for my deceased pet rats, Moo and Maxine. I can see images of them scampering across the floor in my mind's eye. I remember chirping "Maxine, Maxine, come here baby!" and looking down to see my faithful friend standing at my feet. I wish my grandparents were still alive. I wish they could see me now, all grown up. What would they think? Would they be pleased with how I turned out? Would they be proud? Would my grandpa and I spend hours arguing about politics? He was a fan of Rush Limbaugh. Would my grandmother be appalled that I am an atheist? I wish I remembered more about them, especially my grandmother. She died when I was only four and my grandfather when I was thirteen.

I understand why the idea of Heaven and an all-loving being watching over us, guiding us is appealing. Like everyone else, I long to see the dead again. I wish they were here with me. How much I would like to hug my grandmother, to show her the woman I have become!

Death is unpleasant. The idea that all living things will at some point cease to exist and be lost to us really, really sucks. I get it, I do. I can sympathize with the pain. I know what is like to wish, to hope with everything that you have that someday, somewhere, we will be reunited with those who have expired.

BUT, the Universe does not act according to our desires. Just because something is unpleasant, such as the idea of entering a dreamless, endless sleep upon dying, does not mean that is untrue.

Mortality is sobering and humbling, but I am personally not afraid of death. I have come to terms with my own brevity and I am no longer scared. When I was a Christian, I was always afraid.

"Am I sinning? Am I going to Hell? How do I know if I am good enough for Heaven?" I often thought. No one, it seemed, could comfort me. No one could give me an answer. No could tell me if I was living correctly. I spent hours contemplating the idea of eternity as a teenager. I thought about the alternatives. Spending an eternity in a hot, torturous place or living FOREVER in some paradise. To be honest, neither sounded appealing. I didn't want to live forever anywhere, even if it was a paradise. The thought of no release terrified me. I thought about it constantly. In school, at home, at dance class, at cheerleading practice. It plagued me. My religious faith began to unravel. The more I thought about the tenets of Christianity, the more my faith eroded.

One day in English class when I was in 11th grade, we were reading various creation stories from around the globe. At this point in time, I had never really thought about where the Universe and Earth came from. However, the idea that it was sitting on a turtle's back was ridiculous. I had understood that the myths we read were exactly that, myths. The last tale we read was Genesis. All of a sudden, a very important realization hit me like a bus.

"This is just as ridiculous as all of the other myths!"

The journey towards atheism for me started right there in English class. A teenage girl who at that time, had little knowledge about evolution, science, cosmology, and the scale of the Universe began thinking about what life really means and where we come from. I do not claim to have all of the answers. Why would I? After all, I am just an animal in a brief existence on a spinning rock.