Religulous & thoughts on the afterlife & Nutter

Nutter is gone. :(
It turns out he never had cancer. He had a cyst in his lung. In September, it burst, flooding his chest with fluid so he couldn't breathe or eat. We had his chest drained and got him an appetitite stimulant, and he ate and seemed really happy and like his old self for a few days, but the fluid started to come back and he stopped eating again. He wouldn't even eat the Nutri-Cal paste that he loved so much. We brought him to the vet again and got the appetite stimulant but it didn't work. He was just lying on the floor crying. It was awful. So the next morning (Saturday 9-27) I sat down with him and told him he was going to see Zen by noon, and that we were taking him at 11:30. At 11:30 I was in the bathroom getting ready and Nutter walked into his carrier and looked at me as if to say "let's go."
He was down to 6 lbs from his top weight of around 11 (never a big or fat cat). He laid peacefully on the table at the vet and didn't flinch or cry out or struggle. I had my hand on him and he was gone between heart beats. He was ready to go but oh how I miss him and the silly things he did. The trick he did for food, the way he would meow at me without making noise (just opening his mouth), the way he would attack people's feet when he was happy to see them, how he liked to jump onto Willy's shoulder and headbutt his face...what a silly, goofy, boy our Fluffernutter the Wondercat was.
I lost my job the same week Nutter was so sick, and my last day was last week. So that's been really hard too. I hate not working, being home alone, having no money. If I had money, I could buy things to fix up the house with, to organize all our stuff, etc. But I'm trapped here, can't even go out to eat. All I can do is write.
I did got to the movies this week, to see Religulous, Bill Maher's documentary on religion. It was enlightening and it made me realize something.
When I think about the afterlife, there is no god there.
I see green fields and stone walls and trees and buildings and people and animals, but there's no god, no angels, no harps. No 72 virgins. No prize, no punishment. Just peace.
I see my dad in the Elsewhere bar, hanging out with everyone who had Alzheimer's and dementia in life, all their memories regained. It's a dark place, crowded, with the music a little too loud, and the door opens way too frequently to let someone new come in. The bartender isn't god, he's just whoever felt like pulling pints at that moment.
NaNoWriMo starts in a week or so. Beside looking for a job, that's my focus. And cleaning the house. Which I hate. So I'll be writing a lot! My NaNo blog is over at LiveJournal (I don't know why).

musings on death

My dad is dying. You can read all about it here. It's made me very sad. That might sound simplistic, but it's the bottom line. I'm sad. I go and watch him die and I cry and it affects everything I do.
Today's 12 Vulture so it's a good day to let things go. Maybe my dad will let go of the earth today, but I doubt it. He is fighting so hard to live.
Last night I was talking to a friend of mine who is an atheist and I told him honestly that the only reason I can't be one is because I refuse to let go of the idea of an afterlife. I need it.
And that made me think about right-to-life people and how they think the sanctity of life is more important than anything. Most of these people are Christians and they have the whole Heaven thing. If you believe in Heaven as a place of ultimate peace and angels and clouds and all that, why would you ever fight for someone to stay here on earth, especially when that person is suffering, sick and in pain? Wouldn't you WANT them to be freed from their physical pain and go onto an everlasting peace? How can you believe in the fluffy Christian Heaven and yet want to keep people here on earth? It doesn't make any sense whatsoever.
It seems to me that the atheists should be the ones trying to keep people alive, because they believe there is nothing there after death, that you wink out like a candle flame.
I don't want to go out like a candle flame, and I don't want those I love to go out either. I don't know how I would ever let that go, or why I would ever want to. It's a comfort to me, like having a security blanket or sitting with a purring cat on my lap.
For me to believe that after all this suffering, my father is going to wink out and cease to exist would make me absolutely insane.
12.19.14.14.16 12 Cib 4 Ceh