Outside the window is beautiful sunny weather.
The same enthusiastic mood is in my soul
as in today's transparent morning.
An hour ago coming to work,
I inhaled a fresh sea breeze and heard the cries of seagulls
in the sky over Magadan.
And I thought about death.
There is nothing surprising.
Moreover, there is not a grain of necrophilia,
as an ignorant passer-by who has been hurrying
at his important matters
could point at me with an index finger.
There is no death at all.
God has all people alive.
But not everyone can understand and realize this.
The day before yesterday, on the day of the ancestors' commemoration,
on the day of Radonitsa, as always,
I did not immediately understand this.
I'm probably a slow guy, or deaf in heart.
Because only on the second day, suddenly with a special acuity,
I realized the frailty of being,
and the way I miss my relatives and friends who have already gone.
And I miss even the cat, which left its small,
withered body a day before Christmas.
Now I am writing this,
and I think they are all really alive and looking at me.
They say something quietly among themselves.
They rejoice at my successes,
they are disappointed when I behave in a wrong way.
But I can not see them yet.
In their new, radiant vestments.
Someday we will all be resurrected.
And if Christ had not been resurrected,
all our faith would have been meaningless.
I am firmly convinced of this.
And if I did not always manage to do righteous deeds in my life,
I would wish to die only as Christ died and rose again.
04/19/2018