The Poetry of Emily Dickinson

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Emily Dickinson has always been one of my favorite poets. I love her poems because of the pain and sorrow they contain to which I can easily relate. She often writes of funerals and death. I myself have watched too many friends die and have wondered why God would let this happen. At every funeral, some well meaning mourner would say--,"The Lord called him" or "She's with Jesus now." My gut reaction was always, "Bullshit." Then Emily Dickinson's poem "My Life Closed Twice Before its Close" would come to mind, especially the last two lines--,"Parting is all we know of Heaven and all we need of hell." More than anything I've ever heard those lines summarize the doubts I've had about an afterlife and the pain of those left behind.

My friend Molly Moynahan, recently wrote a novel and titled it Parting is all We Know of Heaven. The book opens with Dickinson's poem in its entirety. It is the story of a young woman whose life is destroyed by grief following her sister's death. I too have been at the point where grief combined with my own stupidity (drugs and alcohol) almost destroyed my life.

My best friend since childhood killed herself by eating 56 valium pills. Her suicide note said that she was too ashamed of herself to face her family anymore. Her parents didn't even bother to come to her funeral. We had to take up a collection in the bar to bury her. Two weeks later another good friend choked to death on his own vomit. His three year old daughter found him the next morning. I was overwhelmed with guilt when I realized I had been drinking with him the night before. To this day when I see his wife and children at the supermarket, I can't look them in the face. Within the next two months I lost three other friends t...

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... we discussed in class the tradition among New England Puritans of looking in the face of the dead and reading their emotions to determine whether or not they were going to heaven. I've thought about this a lot since I've found God and I hope that it isn't true. Everyone I've known has died a horrible death. They were all cut down in the prime of their lives--face down in their own vomit, on the cold, dirty floor of a bathroom, decapitated in a car wreck, in a crowded AIDS ward in a city hospital. None of them had a chance to make their peace with God or with themselves for that matter. I'm sure none of them died looking content or peaceful but terrified and at best surprised. Therefore I would like to believe that hell is all that has gone on here in this life and that after the parting there is a heaven where those who suffered on earth are given a second chance.

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