Yesterday was Moon Dog's memorial service. The place was crowded to standing room only, and I only got a seat because of my limp and cane. It was quite the diverse crowd, since Jim moved in many circles and made friends easily. As expected, I saw friends there I hadn't seen in ages, but there were some notable absences too. The service was fairly standard, and a couple times I was panged with guilt when I found my mind wandering. But the remembrances his friends and family spoke were sometimes sad, sometimes funny, always heartwarming.
I suppose the death of a friend or family member always makes most everyone consider their own mortality.
In a sense I envy Jim, being released from this mortal coil and returning home, reclaiming his place as a part of the cosmic Whole. I believe that God is not a singular independent consciousness, but rather is comprised of the "life force" energy that binds all living things together - all living things are a part of God, and when our mortal bodies expire we return to the cosmic soup, the mixing bowl from which the consciousness of new life is dipped.
Since God is everything and everything is God, the one thing God cannot know is individuality. And so in Hir infinite wisdom, God is constantly separating little bits of Hirself and sending them out into the world(s) as plants, animals, and who knows what else. These divine sparks live their lives, and when they're done they return to the Whole like pigeons coming home to roost, and they add the experience of their lives to God's understanding. In this way, God continues to learn and grow, the infinite manages to expand, against all odds and against the laws of physics, beyond the boundaries of infinity itself.
Jim is Home now, basking in the rapture of reunification with the Whole. I will miss him, but I won't grieve for him.