I was brought up by a Marxist rationalist stepfather, so I don't believe in the supernatural or religion or horoscopes, and the absolute nature of death is quite helpful for me. My husband was there, then he wasn't.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I lived for nearly seven years with the awareness that death was my everyday companion.
When my father passed away and then when later on I gave birth, those are sort of ground-breaking experiences that put everything else into perspective.
I have had a fascination with death, I think, that might be considered genetic for a long time. My father had the same affliction, I guess.
My dad died when he was 60. I was only 17 and I think, psychologically, that had a huge impact on me, probably more than I realised.
Because of my Marxism, I was not into myths or miracles, whether it was the virgin birth, the physical resurrection or casting out demons from an epileptic.
My dad died when I was young; my mom remarried with more haste than sense to a fellow... he wasn't evil or anything, but he was worthless.
I have lived with passion and in a hurry, trying to accomplish too many things. I never had time to think about my beliefs until my 28-year-old daughter Paula fell ill. She was in a coma for a year, and I took care of her at home until she died in my arms in December of 1992.
My grandfather had a particularly important influence on my life, even though I didn't visit him often, since he lived about three miles out of town and he died when I was six. He was remarkably curious about the world, and he read lots of books.
I was blessed with a birth and a death, and I guess I just want some say in between.
Dad passed away in 2000, but he visits me all the time. He comes to me in different ways. So I have that connection with him, and that comforts me, to know that in time I can come back and still have that with my kids. It's not unfamiliar to me, that connection with the afterlife. I know it's real; I experience it all the time.