Bye, Dad

How sad can the loss of a beloved one be? Yesterday my father died, after a life mostly spent in illness. During the latest dozen years he just went from bad to worse, and in these latest few days his body finally surrendered and decided to put and end to a vane fight against deseases, taking him into a coma which lead to death. He’s gone through near death situations several times, and he’s spent many weeks of his life in hospitals, since he was young. Now, he rests in a coffin I’ve had the task to choose, and while what remains of that heavily plagued burden of flesh which his body has become through the years is hidden in a sealed box of wood and zync, everything else remains in our hearts and memories, and in the things he’s built or bought, like the homes we live in, the lands he’s managed to purchase and so on. I definitely miss him, but I was ready for this inevitable moment, more than I though, probably. I’ve cried, of course, and I’ll cry again anytime the memory of him comes again and touches my heart. Maybe one day this memory will be ‘distant’ enough to bring just a little bit of sadness, who knows, but now I’m here with all the moments spent with him and the rest of my family, like the not so distant hour in which I held his hands and we prayed together, me and him, to ask God to put an end to his sufferings, after a very frightening moment in which he went so close to death to make his wish stronger, but nothing happened and I told him ‘Sorry dad, God knows when the moment is right, and we just have to accept that’.That moment was yesterday, and I really hope he’s enjoying the relief of not being tied anymore to a sick and almost totally paralyzed body. Bye dad, I’ve loved you, I hope you still feel our love and the appreciation for everything you’ve done.

3D Time: spherical and multi-layered?

A tangled wireball - just imagine your life along these wiresA few days ago I was discussing about multi-dimensional Universes, String Theory and similar topics with a friend of mine, after reading an interesting article on the Italian edition of Focus magazine, and it came to my mind a sketch I drew a few weeks ago.
In that drawing, I tried to describe an idea of time as a trhee-dimensional and multi-layered structure: just imagine something different from the usual timeline-shaped path (the one where birth and death are connected via a linear series of events which describe our earthly existence from start to end).
Imagine this alternative view of our individual lives as a sphere-shaped grid where an infinite number of linear paths are connected each other in ‘nodes’ or just cross their respective paths without touching, distributed on various levels like strings in a tangled wire-ball, but following an order.
Now imagine every crossing path of those strings like a moment, in your life, where a choice, decision or ‘event’ made you shift your path and move along a different string, and so on. Of course different shifts could bring you to similar ‘outcomes’, non necessarily to different ones.
For example, you could meet someone in a train station and ignore him/her, and find yourself traveling with the same person months later on a plane where you start talking with him/her, or start the same friendship on the first chance and then meet again on the same plane being already friends. This example moves along two different paths, but ‘crosses’ twice in similar ‘nodes’, keeping the intermediate path separate. Along the intermediate path anything can happen, producing again new chances of shifting towards other paths.
I know it sounds a bit confusing, and my knowledge of the English language may not be good enough to make this descriptions clear, but I would like to finish this reflections with an even more crazy idea: just imagine that the ‘shift’ from one ‘universe’ to the other happens while you sleep, and you wake up in a different ‘dimension’ every time, according to the shift you produced with your thoughts-actions, without noticing just because you were sleeping and changes, at waking time, are so subtle you cannot see them. This could explain ‘dreams’ as a sort of computing process where actions and thoughts of the day are processed and produce a ‘resulting’ shift.