What is the weight of our soul?

From 2013- The Weight of our Soul….

I was reading the other day about how a kindle which is full of information weighs just a thousands of an ounce more than a new one. I also read where the same computer hard drive full of information weighs a thousands of an ounce more than a new one. Been tested, it’s a fact. Therefore you could assume that even virtual information has weight. Surprising, right?

I wonder if our brains weigh more, the smarter we are? I don’t think it works the same with humans. They say Einstein’s brain was kind of small weight wise as compared to a normal brain, yet he was a genius. One thing I believe though, is that there is weight to the spark of life which makes us human. That “soul” which resides within us, which dictates to us all our living days what we do. That spark weighs so little it’s probably just a thousands of an ounce or maybe less. Buy oh, it’s the heaviest light weight thing in creation.

I have witnessed the death of both my parents. My Dad was still warm when I got to him, and I was holding my Mom’s hand when she took her last breath. And when they took them away although they were dead weight, they were like the thinnest tissue paper in looks. My Dad was always like a little hard rock up til the day he died, but he was shrunk down like a shriveled little sponge after he lost that tiny little bit of weight they call the spirit.

I don’t know the weight of the spark of life, but I have seen its impact. It’s a big one. Better to get done what you need to get done before it’s gone. All the forgiving, the loving, the words you need to say or write. All the singing, the dancing, the hugging, the kisses. All the things you are putting off until a better time…there is no better time. When you lose THAT little bit of weight, well there is no more time.

Heaven’s at the Dam

I dreamed about going fishing up at the Dam in Trion last night. The water was running fast over the top of the dam, and there were dozens of people in the water pulling in bass, and crappie. My Dad and Uncle Pink were there, and they were laughing and joking with each other as they pulled one after another big crappie in, and strung them up. I can’t remember who the other people standing out in the water fishing were. Nobody was standing on the shore. Everyone had their waders on, or their pants legs rolled up and they were standing anywhere from knee deep to waist deep in the cold Chattooga river.

That particular place, that old dam….has almost a mystical or magical hold on me. Anytime I have ever gone there, as a kid and even up to the year we moved from Trion….I have felt almost a reverence when I have stood at that spot. I have felt the spirits of the Cherokee who once fished the eels and sturgeon out of these waters, and have even felt the touch of those prehistoric people who proceeded them in this area. Those people whose mark you can see over at Russell Cave in Alabama. Thousands of years worth of people walked the banks of that old river. Perhaps their souls are still there.

Who knows, perhaps the dream I had last night was a glimpse of the afterlife. God knows, I certainly wouldn’t mind it. If I woke up after I pass away and I can roll up my breeches legs on my pants and wade out into that cold water in between Daddy and Uncle Pink, and start casting that old yeller’ lead head out into the foamy water and starting reeling those crappie in, I think I’d just shout hallelujah.