Of Butterflies and Cracker Jack I thought carefully about how to write this article so that it would have meaning that applies to everyone who reads it. Though it’s unconventional, I chose the following approach: From a distance I saw you shed tears over what you thought was me. With my vision, now perfect beyond what you can imagine, I saw each tear as it rolled down your cheek. My hearing, is now so perfect I can hear clouds as they rub against each other, I heard your sobs, your breathing, I heard your heart when it beat such as it has never beat before. I heard your whisper when you were alone at night, a whisper so soft it wasn’t much more than a thought, asking ‘why’? I ask you the same: ‘why’? You think I am dead, you think I am no more. Why? What you cry over isn’t me, what you see is a empty shell, a discarded container. I am not dead, What you cry over is an empty cocoon, the butterfly has flown away, changed into something more perfect and beautiful than you can imagine. Now I can touch the stars and run with deer, don’t cry over me! I watched as all of you gathered around me, wept over me and held hands. Cry for yourselves because you’re still there, still bound by time and space. Why do you cry over an empty cage? The bird has flown away free, never to be caged again. Would you keep me imprisoned? Now I understand for the first time in my life what it means to be free, now for the first time in my life I am alive, don’t cry over me, I’m free! I ran and danced with friends and loved ones that I had not seen in years. We laughed, we sang, we skipped and we jumped, all the while I saw you from a distance as you ceremoniously put what you thought was me in the ground. You all cried and I couldn’t remember why, I was running and skipping, you were sobbing and weeping. Why? Death can have what remains of the oyster, the pearl has been removed and set in a crown of incomparable beauty that will radiate forever, of what importance is the shell? Don’t cry for me, now I shine! Years passed for you but not for me, you learned to accept what you think was my death because you were taught to accept it. You never understood it for what it is, you stumbled through the days in shock at first, then you were numb inside, then you got mad at me. Then finally you reached the point where you thought you were over it. You never understood. There is no pain here, or sorrow or grief, so I hope you will excuse me if I don’t cry and lament with you. You go through what you think is life with your senses numb and your bodies broken. How can you understand what it means to truly live the way you were intended to live? How can you know what it means to dance if you have yet to walk? Who cares if death gets the box of Cracker Jack if the prize has been removed? I can run races with lightening bolts. Don’t cry for me! I love you so much and always will, please understand that the empty container isn’t important, it’s the contents. Who cares about the empty wrapper when the candy bar is gone? Who cares about the old wrecked car when the driver got out and walked away safe? Why cry over an old worn out suit when its exchanged for a brand new tailor made one of the finest materials? Cry if you must because you miss me but even that is such a short instant in eternity that it isn’t worth it because what we will have when you get here is beyond description because you don’t understand what eternity is. Remember what was written, you’ve heard it a thousand times:"O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?", I know you don’t understand right now but there was no sting and the victory was all mine. Don’t cry for me!
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