God Death Heaven Hell

Dear Father;

I don't believe in God. Not the way Grandfather did. I am not an Atheist because I refuse to say that there is nothing else out there. I find most religion a big ball of blame. People need reasons for everything; "Why did he take my son?" "Why did he take my father?" because we don't want to think that these things are random. We desire order in a universe that tends towards chaos. We seek answers continually to the universe around us when in reality it is far to large for our minds to wrap around it.

The big bang, the ether, string theory, these are all things that we use to keep us going. Einstein's one downfall was trying to search for a theory of everything, for when we find that we will find the essence of God and mankind was never meant to know that.

One looks to the heavens and ponders what happens to those that pass on. That there is more to this life than our bodies walking around I know for I have seen the unexplainable. This is however how it should be; Unexplainable. When we pass on it is better that we not know to where we go. There is no heaven, there is no hell, no streets of Gold, no 42 virgins, no fire and brimstone, no red caped hooves menacing demons. We see the echoes everyday of those that came before.

I write all this to explain in part why I'm writing to someone who has been gone for over forty years. Most of your echo is gone. I never really knew what you looked like so I have no face to forget, no smile and loving nickname, but even though you left before I had a chance to know you I love you and miss you just the same.

Love, Your son,
Jason Vincent Alexander Murray

You and your friends

Dear Father,

Today I talked to a woman who knew Peter. We talked about the last exit and how she recorded music with him once in his studio. Every once in a while you visit me in some unexpected way. I appreciate that. What is death like? Is that a secret you are going to keep from me? That's okay. We all need our secrets.
I listen to Jazz to be near you. I listened recently to Bitches Brew by Miles Davis. You once spent time with him so spending time with his music is like spending time with you. I sometimes wonder what sort of father would you have been. Would you have lectured me when I drank too much? Would you have made damned sure that I played an instrument? Would you be the kind of father I am today?
You are out there and hopefully you hear the rantings of my keyboard. They don't clackity clack anymore. Now they just whisper.

Love,
Your Son,
Jason Vincent Alexander Murray

A bright and sunny day

Dear Father;

Today is a bright and sunny day. The kind you change into your sunglasses for. These days start out cold so you leave the house layered in black, but come home carrying your coat and sweater. I don't drive the fast cars you did. But I tend to drive to fast like you. Instead of an MGA or a TR2 I have a big volvo Station Wagon. What would you think of this car? Maybe you'd approve because your grandchildren ride around in it, and as we know children can fly out of an MGA!
I know you'd approve of the motorcycle my mouth was salivating over today. A long seat Triumph. My boy told me that everyone would really think he was cool if I dropped him off by motorcycle in the morning. I told him not to worry he was already cool.

Love,
Your son,
Jason Vincent Alexander Murray

A note on how to proceed

Dear Father;

I was just two when you left this place. You bid your friends goodnight and went to bed. When they came home you wouldn't wake up.

We came home for the funeral, and to see you buried. I don't remember this. I don't actually remember you. But I know about you. I decided to write you letters as I travel this summer to try to know you better and to help you to get to know the man that your son became.

I will talk to you soon.

your son,

Jason Vincent Alexander Murray