Sheila Nevins | 09/08/2009 12:00 am
The Day Grandma Left Heaven for Dead, by Sheila Nevins

© Shutterstock
You see I’ve always wanted to believe in heaven.
When I was a little girl and Santa’s beard fell off to reveal Uncle Seymour, I dropped my belief in Santa. I took Santa Seymour’s gifts with sadness, because Mr. Claus was for me no more. Heaven was different. I held on to heaven right up to my first double-digit birthday. You see, I missed some dead people so much. I wanted to believe they had landed somewhere friendly and warm, floating on a cloud, with room one day for me. I would arrive up there and meet them and they’d be so happy to see me. They would notice how beautifully I had grown up and how pretty my hair was long.
Now, when Grandma Celia died, she went straight to heaven. At that moment heaven was still a certainty to me. I was seven and I didn’t question Grandma’s arrival there because she had always called me her angel. She had loved me and kissed me more than a million and had made hot soup for colds and sweet desserts just because. Yet when I was nine and a half, Grandpa Louis died in his sleep. Then I began to wonder. You see, Celia and Louis were always disagreeing about things. I didn’t think that could happen in heaven. No arguing. You had to be peaceful up there. In addition, just a few months after Grandma Celia died, my family was taken by surprise, because Grandpa Louis had found a new wife – Dorothy Rabin. This shotgun wedding, just months after Grandma Celia’s departure, was troubling for my concept of heaven. For Celia would not have liked the fact that Dorothy had married quarrelsome Grandpa Louis. Dorothy had been Grandma Celia’s closest-dearest-confidant and friend on earth. So, by the time I was double-digit ten (a day I had long waited for), I dropped my notion of heaven and deemed it a fairytale – continuing to live wistfully, in full doubt, for many decades. Yes, it happened, conclusively, the day I blew ten candles out with one for good luck – that was the day Grandma left heaven for dead.
Recently I went to a funeral mass where the Grandma who died was proclaimed to have left the earth and was by God’s side. There was choir singing and glorious organ music. There was incense swinging and no air-conditioning in the church. I fell under a celestial spell. The sonorous priest knew, without a doubt, that this Grandma was heaven-sent and had gone to a better place. He rejoiced in the fact that in heaven a joyful reunion would take place with her brothers and sisters and pre-deceased husband, etc. The priest also knew that this Grandma was looking down on her many grandchildren and would "guide their way into the light of eternity." He knew it for sure, and the grandkids knew it for sure, and so did most of the people there who sang prayers that they knew by heart, kneeled when told, rose when asked and most importantly knew not to applaud when each hymn was over.
I was a stranger to this. I just couldn’t accept it. For me this cloud paradise didn’t add up. I am too logical I guess. I don’t have the gift of belief. Not that I didn’t want it. Who wanted life to end in a dead end? But I had no choice. I guess you could blame it on Grandma Celia and Grandpa Louis’s arguing and the scandal with Dorothy.
When I was a little girl and Santa’s beard fell off to reveal Uncle Seymour, I dropped my belief in Santa. I took Santa Seymour’s gifts with sadness, because Mr. Claus was for me no more. Heaven was different. I held on to heaven right up to my first double-digit birthday. You see, I missed some dead people so much. I wanted to believe they had landed somewhere friendly and warm, floating on a cloud, with room one day for me. I would arrive up there and meet them and they’d be so happy to see me. They would notice how beautifully I had grown up and how pretty my hair was long.
Now, when Grandma Celia died, she went straight to heaven. At that moment heaven was still a certainty to me. I was seven and I didn’t question Grandma’s arrival there because she had always called me her angel. She had loved me and kissed me more than a million and had made hot soup for colds and sweet desserts just because. Yet when I was nine and a half, Grandpa Louis died in his sleep. Then I began to wonder. You see, Celia and Louis were always disagreeing about things. I didn’t think that could happen in heaven. No arguing. You had to be peaceful up there. In addition, just a few months after Grandma Celia died, my family was taken by surprise, because Grandpa Louis had found a new wife – Dorothy Rabin. This shotgun wedding, just months after Grandma Celia’s departure, was troubling for my concept of heaven. For Celia would not have liked the fact that Dorothy had married quarrelsome Grandpa Louis. Dorothy had been Grandma Celia’s closest-dearest-confidant and friend on earth. So, by the time I was double-digit ten (a day I had long waited for), I dropped my notion of heaven and deemed it a fairytale – continuing to live wistfully, in full doubt, for many decades. Yes, it happened, conclusively, the day I blew ten candles out with one for good luck – that was the day Grandma left heaven for dead.
Recently I went to a funeral mass where the Grandma who died was proclaimed to have left the earth and was by God’s side. There was choir singing and glorious organ music. There was incense swinging and no air-conditioning in the church. I fell under a celestial spell. The sonorous priest knew, without a doubt, that this Grandma was heaven-sent and had gone to a better place. He rejoiced in the fact that in heaven a joyful reunion would take place with her brothers and sisters and pre-deceased husband, etc. The priest also knew that this Grandma was looking down on her many grandchildren and would "guide their way into the light of eternity." He knew it for sure, and the grandkids knew it for sure, and so did most of the people there who sang prayers that they knew by heart, kneeled when told, rose when asked and most importantly knew not to applaud when each hymn was over.
I was a stranger to this. I just couldn’t accept it. For me this cloud paradise didn’t add up. I am too logical I guess. I don’t have the gift of belief. Not that I didn’t want it. Who wanted life to end in a dead end? But I had no choice. I guess you could blame it on Grandma Celia and Grandpa Louis’s arguing and the scandal with Dorothy.
























129 Reader Comments (so far…) Sign In or Register to comment
Dear R.J.B. Please know that religion is not what being a Believer in Christ is all about.<!—break—> You are correct to be suspicious of those who would be" know it alls" - You won’t be pleasantly surprised at death. If you don’t accept Jesus as the Son of God and begin a journey to study the scriptures to find the truth you think is unknowable. Just take that first step and open the Bible to the New Testament. Read the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Just read in a quiet place, start to pray also in a quiet place. Go on to read some of Paul’s books. He writes from a different perspective. He killed Christians, then God came to change his journey in life. Prayer is nothing other than talking to God. No formal words are needed, just heartfelt thoughts and questions, also doubts and all you have in your heart. He has heard it all before. He won’t be upset if you are angry, sad, unbelieving … He gives us chance after chance to become his Child. Then you won’t have to wait to be surprised.
Your soul is you, and it will continue to exist, man is born, to die once. The soul will be with God in the "land of the living" or in what is called hell. That may mean a separation from God as some believe. Others believe those "flames" mentioned in scripture are literal.
I have added replies to several others for more on this topic. I care about you. I always have believed in God even though my parents or any relatives I knew were Believers. They lived the moral life of a Christian or Believer, whichever is the preferred term. Or saint, as that also means a person who is a Believer in Jesus as Christ. Not a super duper Christian who has performed miracles. Read the beginning of Paul’s books, in them the letters are usually addressed: To the saints in Galatia, which gives evidence that saint was another word for believer or christian. Love and God guide you to his words. Omie
I’ve read the Bible. In fact, I’ve read several different translations of the Bible….. I especially dispise Paul. The words attributed to Jesus are fairly awesome, but the words attributed to Paul are not. In fact, many Christians really are Paulists instead of Christians.
In any case, I’ve gotten the "If only you read it in the right frame of mine" type appeals before. It doesn’t impress me. Why should I believe your version of Jesus and not believe someone else’s? It’s all arbitrary.
However, I believe in love that transcends everything.I believe in doing the right thing, not walking away from the pain of others, speaking for those who cannot speak, merely because it’s the right and moral thing to do,not because doing so will get me into someplace called ‘heaven’.
But, will I see my loved ones again? Gosh, I hope so, and I can’t help thinking, as we get closer and closer to understanding things like quantum physics, there is Something there. What, I don’t know. As a previous poster stated, when the time comes for me to go, it’ll be too late to come back and let people know.
Still and all, I remember this thought, and for the life of me, I can’t remember where I heard this, but the story goes that a scientist was climbing a mountain..At the same time a theologian was climbing a mountain. When they got to the top they found that they had arrived , the both of them, in the same place.
Who knows? One of the few things I DID hear from a cleric that I accepted was this: Whatever is there, we , probably, would not understand it anyway, so it is best to be about living our life here on earth, doing unto others as we would have done to us.
My cousins to this day, as adults, still claim that they saw their recently departed Grandmother sitting on the chest at the end of their beds. One woke up before the other, and then they both were awake and saw her together. They immediately told their mother.
My husbands grandmother tells the story of having either a vivid dream or a half awake experience of seeing her son in the military walking towards her while she lay in her bed. He sat on the side of her bed next to her and told her that he loved her. A few days later she received the news that he had been killed in a training accident on the same day as her dream.
Personally I am very mathematically minded and believe in fractals - a fractal is a series of things that resemble each other in similar structures: trees, brocolli; rivers and streams, veins and capillaries. Universe, galaxies, solar systems, atoms, neutrons and protons. Ferns have fronds, and each frond has leaves, in the shape of the fern, but smaller.
See the fern picture here:
http://classes.yale.edu/fractals/Panorama/Nature/NatFracGallery/Gallery/RealFern.gif
I think we humans are the smaller scale fractals of a higher being, made in His and Her image - creating our own creations, in our own images, as Creators ourselves.
I also don’t believe in "death" but rather our consciousness will shift from this life to the next, but we will retain our personalities, and affections for each other. I also believe in the eventual resurrection for everyone.
I have no existential fear of death - a fear of immense suffering in life, even if just a short period before death, yes, but not of death itself.
Now if you’re asking about the nature of faith…
I read a great book recently. I picked it up because I’d always wondered about how military chaplains justify their service positions. The author’s experience is definitely a worthwhile read. Most of his comments and observations are applicable to all instances of personal challenge.
Faith Under Fire: An Army Chaplain’s Memoir by Roger Benimoff and Eve Conant
My Catholic childhood gave me solace when I just knew that my Meme was up there with the stars.She must have been the nice shiny one just beaming for me.
In adulthood I left organized religion altogether and tried to be a spiritual being.Trying to sort it all out.
Lately in my golden years I start to believe that everything was and is a fantasy and life is here, it is what it is. So deal with it, no fairy tales, no Santas, no angels. All I truly believed with my heart and soul is leaving me. I wish it would not be so but there it is.
I remember once, toward the end of his life, hearing my father say to his minister, "I’m not sure I can believe in the idea of heaven, but I can definitely believe in hell." OK, Dad was maybe a mix of dour Scot and existentialist, but I think I get what he meant! I would love to believe that there is a heaven comprised of light and warmth, where we will be reunited with those we loved in life (including our dear pets!). I would love to believe that exists. But … I think for me what exists is the heaven of memory of loved ones. And the fact that as long as even one person remembers, a soul is not "gone" or "dead" - heaven is the memory we leave in the minds of others - and so is hell.
(But I’ll keep my options open. Life is a foxhole, and I’m not quite brave enough to be the atheist in it! There IS a spirit, and in all its beauty and complexity, that’s what I believe in. The spirit goes on. Heaven? Or hell? That’s up to us.)
Heaven is a brilliant concept. How else to keep sinners in line and pay for indulgences. If there is no reward at the end of life, then why adhere to certain rules? Why blow yourself up if waiting for you are not tens of virgins and paradise forever? Of course, along with heaven there was hell with its promise of fiery flames licking your poor body ad infinitum. If there wasn’t the concept of heaven and hell two of the greatest works in literature might not have been written: Milton’s, "Paradise Lost" and Dante’s "Divine Comedy." Without the concept of heaven millions of people whose lives were/are insufferable cling to the belief that at least they are "going to a better place" when they die. Human beings, like other creatures in the animal kingdom, are survivors. But unlike the other creatures, humans want to transcend their survival and live in some utopia forever. It’s difficult to conceive of our death––the nothingness of it. So much easier to believe in a heaven. I, myself, am satisfied with earthly things and love the idea of my ashes mingling with the soil in a place I treasured long ago on a lake that I always think of as my first Eden.
Of Man’s first disobedience and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden.
–––––––––John Milton
This is one of those thread topics that I will not read the other posters’ posts as I’m fairly sure of the content, and either you believe or you don’t.
Those who do will be beyond themselves to convince those (of us) who don’t that they’re (we’re) wrong, and in being wrong it’ll cost them (us) dearly post mortem. Those (of us) who don’t will be stating their (our) position (as did the OP), realizing as they (we) do that our belief system has absolutely nothing to do with biological reality.