It's probably a morbid thing to say given the jocularity of the previous post re: the BP, but... I was probably one free-floating blood clot away from seeing my Dad again.

Most people are afraid of death. I'm not. Maybe some pain, it all fades to black, maybe the white tunnel of light, and then I'm in my own personal version of the afterlife. A small airstrip, with my Dad doing pre-flight on a little two-seat Cessna, and all the time we need to make up for a lifetime lost.

Heaven isn't some boring eternity worshipping an abstract idea. Heaven is the place where you deal with all your unfinished business, say all the goodbyes you didn't get to say, and balance all the scales. When it's all said and done, you return to the elemental energies of the universe. You return to the Force, and begin again. That's justice to me.

I don't need a god. I just want to see my Dad again. Walking. Flying.

It could have happened the other day. And I honestly don't know if I'm glad it didn't.