My frozen body was brought back from the hospital to my last home. Now, I have two homes (actually every star is my home) and I can move freely from one to the other. It is hard for the living to grasp this state of being – to be everywhere, invisible, formless and in a sea of red. There is really no way of putting words to this transformation.

The three hired nuns, who chanted prayers at my wake for two nights, also helped those present to understand that there is a real connection being forged through the two evening’s activities. Of course, even then, as we were all acting it out in the rituals, in my former house, I and my children and friends could hardly believe that it had happened. Why has this to happen? The nuns in their natural way would say that my dead body is no longer me. That is just a shell. They also said that my soul has gone to where all such spirits would go. But this is not as simple as what the nuns had made it out to be.

I can imagine that my children will not put with such easy answers. To them the living, it is up to them to bear their dead in their memory. What is happening is that they have allowed their power of imagination to mix their physical world into the spirit worlds. However, despite its magical power, there is no way of communicating, between them and us, in the usual manner of using words. The connection is there but there is no way of expressing it to each other. They cannot know what I am thinking and I cannot know what is in their minds. It is now all about relying on our sensations and intuitions. How will this give comfort and help my children and sustain them in the days to come?