Mother Loved Life more than Heaven

During the months that led to Mother's death,  Carol and I lived to some degree in seclusion from society with the exception of a handful of family members.  I felt as though my new self embodied the form of a nun, monk or a hermit.  Scripture reading, meditating on the word of God, prayers, and yoga constituted a large portion of my daily activities. The affairs of life were mundane. I convinced myself with help from Scripture readings that the affairs of life were common, ordinary, banal and unimaginative because they only pertained to this world or earth as contrasted with the Kingdom of Heaven. The bible is filled with numerous examples that aim to excite or comfort readers about the nearing Kingdom. I viewed Mother's nearness to the end of the race with jealousy. I yearned for death. I yearned to be released from earthly or wordy desires which according to scripture give birth to sin. 

Thirteen days before Mother passed away, I went on a ten day vacation, cut short to four days due to unforeseen complications. On those four days, I felt refreshed, excited and enthusiastic about life again. There was so much to do, see and learn in the world!  Suddenly, the concept of the nearing Kingdom no longer excited me and Mother's closeness to the end of the race saddened me. Only then did I understand why Mother avoided and feared the topic of death and the nearing Kingdom. My Mother Loved life more than heaven. Was it because she feared punishment? Or was she able to create heaven on earth?

Two years ago, while having a healthy lunch at home in our extravagantly furnished living room, my Mother described her fear of hell and the power of Satan. I consoled her explaining that the concept of hell does not apply to any Christian who believes that Jesus, the son of God, was crucified to save us from the power of sin and to provide us with eternal salvation. "We" I explained "are heading to heaven and need not be afraid." I also explained that I equate the power of Satan with the power of negative emotions. But, from my perspective, no such satanic figure exists.  Mother, shook her head in disagreement. She never could explain what was on her mind in enough words. In  a panic, she raised her voice signaling the end of the discussion and instructed me to speak with a Coptic priest who will have "all the answers". With exception of the sharp raise in voice, this pattern of panic and direction to a Coptic Priest for "all answers" is not uncommon. My father and aunt seem to believe that the Priest knows all.