Like the sudden cry of birth dispelling the miasma of language, the sheer silence of death opens a vacuum into which all utterances are lost. There is an undeniability about the physical. A lover’s confirming touch, an enemy’s destructive punch, a deceased friend’s slipping grasp — the sensible resonates deeper than the ethereality of words.
Perhaps, then, faith is perseverance in the face of the empirical, the exaltation of the word over the fact. It says: here lies a body, yet the person still lives. Past the horizon of evidence lies the kingdom of the impossible; under decaying molecules and fading memories hides the immortal.
I dedicate this blog to those who have traversed the frontier of finitude to reside in that immense if: Marion’s Al, Joanie, Julio, Maureen, Louise’s Al, Matt DeMizio, Professor Kerlin, Mr. Grady, Astrid, Doris, Louise…
It is as much for their sake as for my own that I challenge the empirical: disprove to me that which cannot be proven. I pray for their assistance, to lend me the courage to remain diligent before the countenance of the darkness, and to transcend terror with humility, fidelity, and, most of all, surrender to the empyreal uplift of hope.