Steven LaChance Blog

Have you ever heard that we lose 21 grams at the moment of our death? Some say it’s the weight of the soul—a notion that feels both mysterious and deeply profound when it comes to remembering someone as irreplaceable as my dad.

Lately, I’ve been immersed in memories of him—cherishing the warmth of his laughter, the wisdom in his quiet words, and the unwavering love he shared so earnestly. My dad’s belief in the afterlife wasn’t some passing fancy; it was a core truth for him. He held that death was not an abrupt end but a sacred transformation—a metamorphosis where our essence continues to evolve, gently guiding those still living.

He believed that the realm beyond was a dynamic continuum, a place where spirits roam not in isolation, but as active participants in the tapestry of life. In his view, every unexpected kindness, every serendipitous moment, was a subtle reminder that our loved ones continue to watch over us. As one contemporary thinker put it,

“Our spirits are the quiet architects of legacy, building bridges between lives even after we depart.”

This modern reflection captures the essence of what my dad always meant: that our impact is measured not in physical weight but in the lasting imprints we leave on the hearts of others.

I also find comfort in another modern thought:

“In a world that’s constantly evolving, our connections become the timeless constants, echoing the love we once knew.”

These words resonate with his deeply held conviction that our souls, like energy, never disappear—they simply transform, continuing their journey in ways that influence and inspire us every day.

The idea of 21 grams might seem like a quirky scientific footnote, but for me it’s a powerful metaphor for the immeasurable impact of a life well-lived. My dad’s deeply meaningful views on the afterlife remind me that while his physical presence is gone, his spirit—his very essence—remains interwoven with the fabric of my everyday life. His beliefs serve as a quiet guide, a steady beacon that reassures me that love, memory, and spirit transcend the boundaries of life and death.

In remembering him, I find solace in the idea that every goodbye carries the promise of an ongoing presence—a legacy that endures beyond the confines of our mortal existence.