An imaginary interaction with my mother in which she poses the point "I'm at the end of my life when I must look forward to meeting my maker and going to heaven, and you want to take that away from me?". In my mind I feel her agony at the thought of it all being a lie. I know this pain because I've felt it myself. It's not all that dissimilar from the feeling I had when my father came clean about Santa Claus. It's a let down to know it was just a big scam.
In my mind I attempt to sympathize with her dilemma, having been there myself. But I want her to know that understanding the truth about god and the promises of an afterlife can be incredibly liberating. It's a freedom from the big creepy guy in the sky. Yes, with that comes the let down of realizing there is no heaven. There will be no long awaited reunions with ancestors gone before. There is no heaven and there are no past lives.
My mother uses her intimate knowledge of her past lives as proof of god. She looks to me to explain how she could have had these experiences if she hadn't lived them herself. I can not explain other than to offer the incredible power of the human brain. That the brain holds within it many mysteries that we can not explain. But the likelihood of a past life memory being that of an actual past life, is not great. I don't want to dismiss her experiences or beliefs, as I've always been convinced that it is wrong to do so. Nor do I wish to dismiss her capacity to understand and appreciate the truth. But the later point is likely lost on my mother when posed with the possibility that I speak the truth.
I wish nothing but the best for her and want to share with her the freedom I've gained from my new-found knowledge.
I have yet to have that follow up conversation with my mother. But it's on my mind and destined to happen soon.