Grandfather

My mother's father died the summer after I graduated high school. I knew him much better. His name was Herman.

By the second half of my senior year of high school, I was drinking almost every single day. I had quit going to church a year earlier, my junior year, and was in the worst relationship I have been in to date. The last words my grandfather said to me were, "I love you. Do you love Christ?" This was one of the hardest moments in my entire life. Reason being, I had denounced Christianity, but I looked him in the eyes with tears rolling down my face and told him yes. I lied to my dying grandfather--this is one thing that sneaks up and haunts me every now and then. I couldn't bare to have him dissappointed in me during his last few moments of life. That evening I was the last one in the room. He fell into a coma. The next morming, my family sang him away with his favorite hymns as we watched him take his last breath.

This brings me to the question of faith, religion and spirituality. I have struggled with these concepts through my entire life, but especially the last five years. I have come into contact with many different people from different backgrounds in my young age and am still left with the ever-fruastrating questions of:

How was the earth created?
What is our purpose here?
Is there something greater than us?
Are we simply evolved? Is it just us out here in this universe?
Is there anyone out there?
Even if God exist, it still doesn't make sense to me. Why this game?

The questions and thoughts go on and on. Ever since I was a little girl, I would look up at the sky and be simply amazed at how big the world was. Where does all this come from? So confused about what life is for.

While my questions remain unanswered, I do still wonder about my grandfather's last words.