Going Away

I have been pondering my reaction to the latest information for 2 days now. I am not like Steph. She puts away the hindering emotions until the work is done(she makes me think of my mother in the good ways). Nor am I like the people who break down and can't function for tears and depression. Usually I am fine. Today my thoughts are scattered. I can't focus on any particular thing. Except for the fact that my reaction seems cold. I don't intend it to be. I don't want to be thought of as a person who doesn't care. I do care. I fear that I don't show it. I don't know if it just my religion and my faith or my fear of emotion and the weakness it shows or that I hear my mother saying that it is the selfish part of us that wants them to stay around which causes me not to get emotional at this point. Probably all of the above.

The first time I encountered death I was 11. My best friend was shot by a drug dealer/terrorist during a high speed chase. Her mother was shot on accident when the police opened fire on the car they were in. It was closed casket so there were no tearful goodbyes. But I do remember shouting at God one night in my room, it was very melodramatic as only an 11 year old drama queen can be. There were experiences that brought peace though. From then on I began to equate death with someone moving away. Moving was something that had played a large role in my life up to that point. It was something that my 11 year old mind could understand. After that the losses became more frequent. My parents divorced and we moved away. It was the death of the life I understood and hearing from Dad was infrequent. Then Mom remarried and we moved again; to Utah leaving all of Mom's relative's behind only to be seen on rare occasions. Friends and family were in and out. I lost grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc...but I have always looked at it the same way. The 11 year old inside of be holds on to the thought that they have just moved far away and someday I will see them again. When written out it seems as if I am not dealing with the deaths, and maybe I am not. I could be just putting it off indefinitely. I am no psychologist, nor do I desire to be one.
Here is where my faith plays a part. I know that there is something after this. It's my belief that according to God's time this life is just a blink. It seems long but as Einstein once said: "When a young man is courting an hour seems like a second; when you sit on a hot coal a second seems like and hour. That's relativity!" (I probably slaughtered that quote. I'll have to go home and check) Life here is so short and our only goal is to get through it. To learn what we came here to learn and return to our Father in Heaven. Where those that we love are waiting. Therefore, though trite, I honestly feel that they have gone on to a better place where they will welcome us one day. They moved away, and, like the friend left behind, we are the ones standing on the curb watching the taillights disappear, wishing they would come back and play with us.