Blended Reality : Experiences with death by JLR True Story Contest contest entry |
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I think that seeing someone dead when you are noticeably young has a profound effect on how you begin to learn to process how death affects oneself. Observing other people around an end-of-life event, especially if the deceased person is family, can be quite a revealing event to support this fact.
When Stephen James died at age 3, I knew something terrible had happened. The event itself was swift. We were, as children, pushed away from the body. After young Stephen was interred, he was never talked about, reminisced about, longed for by anyone in my family. He just simply was there never more. My first personal tear duct emptying, bone-crushing death, was that of my grandfather, John Frank, twelve years later. He was my John Wayne! I was in the Army, training at Ft. Sam Houston. During a training session, one mid-day, the base chaplain came in. The chaplain informed me that my grandfather was quite ill and had been hospitalized and not expected to live. My commanding officer gave me a seven-day pass, I did not make it in time. It crushed me that he died alone. I could not be by his side. His funeral, was held in a Catholic memorial service and attended by ninety people. Those attending were his friends, past co-workers, neighbors, church members, and hospital volunteer associates. None of my immediate family attended. I sobbed throughout his service and at the burial site. I did not know if I could cover the loss I felt. I felt that sense of loss that day viscerally over the years. This man was the mentor who gave me his best as I was growing up. He was a living example of doing the best you can in all things. Now, he was gone. I needed to find a way to come to grips with my loss. I could author a book about death on and in a battle-field environment. While, at the time, you are functioning robotically you are always aware of the smallest of details. Every after-action recovery effort, troop ID tags had to be recovered, even if nothing else was recoverable. I know this sounds harsh. But it is, in fact, so! In training, it was drilled into our skulls, always, get the "dog tags." I lost my first patient, a young farmer from Dayton, OH. He died of multiple internal injuries with severe internal hemorrhage; he had taken a mortar straight into his abdomen - he was better off letting go than hanging on. I saw miracles both allowing one to live and gracefully allowing one to pass over in incredible ways. Having personally had two near-death experiences, I can share the following. On one occasion, I do not question that I had the clear and very palpable sense of coming to a place of intense peace, calm, pastorally lush.Being aware and focused on a white light that blazing white in the distance, was so inviting. I felt a tug to just get up and walk ever so comfortably forward toward this attractive light. As quickly as that light appeared, it extinguished, and just as suddenly, I was back in a severely broken body. The more recent episode was a little over eight years ago. I had a near-fatal heart attack. I physically lost three days from the moment I passed out, then finding I was recovering in an ICU unit at Mission Hospital. I was here one minute and gone the next instant into a very calm, peaceful space during this event. I felt nothing. I heard nothing. Again, I saw this white light off in the distance. But it seemed as though there was a long passageway that was on an upward slant. On this occasion, I walked onto the passage feeling myself leaning upward to the path. Then I suddenly turned around and snap I woke-up in ICU. This dying stuff also happened figuratively as I died to my old life of self numbing with booze when I was thirty-five. This is such a blessing! Taking the twelve steps released me from shackles that bound my ability to feel, see, touch, hear all the truths. It opened-up opportunities that were always so near and yet so far away. My first ninety-days had been a God-given grace moment. I did die from my old life. I honestly buried that person, that shadow, who so consumed me for too long. I find it hard to explain the joy, the celebration to have never had an inkling to want to have an alcoholic drink after that. I honestly died to that other person in those earlier years. That shadow that so consumed me for too long. I do enjoy fond memories and have a wonderful idea about friends and family who have died! I believe that everyone who passes on are little spirits that can steer me along the path of life. Still, on occasion, I sit and ask my grandfather a question or two. Or tell him where my heads at on something and just stop and listen deeply. I have had good friends pass, and I do the same on occasion. Calling out their name and say, "hey ----- I sure miss you!" I ask, "what do think _____ is doing today.? We are all still connected even after someone passes. So, I know more will be realized by all of us when it is our time to cross over.
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JLR
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