Death In Due Time - The Real Story
Could Death by so Bad When Another Existence is Waiting?
Another Existence is Waiting
I don’t know about you, but the only person I ever met who came back from the other side is my uncle Hal.
Uncle Hal, when he was a young man, got hit by a drunk driver. As he describes it he didn’t know he was dead…he couldn’t tell the difference. In fact he didn’t figure it out until the doctors revived him and he felt a tingling sensation across his skin and the next thing he knew his wife, Aunt Margaret, was talking to him, telling him he should have swerved when he saw the headlights.
He describes death as "just another existence."
There were people all around, streets and roads and buildings, the sky was blue and there were bilky clouds. He remembers he never had to use a door…just filter through the wall to get inside.
But people had no feet, just a wispy tail that trailed into a cloudy point as it touched the ground.
One thing he liked was that everyone was there – grandma and grandpa, great grandma and great grandpa, great great grandma and great great grandma. You get the point. Everybody who has ever lived was there.
Hitler was still Hitler. "Cept this time people ignored him. He rose to power during an
economically depressed era. Since there is no money in this other existence, he lost his power base. Heinrich Himmler had to go back to chicken farming.
If death had been miserable, then that carried over, my uncle Hal said. JFK was there but part of his skull wasn’t. It wasn’t like you were made whole again. Just that you could carry on.
Uncle Hal said he spent a couple of weeks in the other existence. The doctor’s chart shows he was in a coma for about the same time.
When I got older I began to wonder if Uncle Hal simply dreamed this other existence up while he was in a coma.
One day I brought that idea to him. Ha! he cried. You doubter, you. I will take you there.
I had just gotten home from high school, so I had a couple of hours before dinner.
That’s plenty of time, Uncle Hal said. And he led me downstairs to his basement.
He told me to face the wall. I heard him fidget with something and then my lights went out.
I didn’t know I had traveled to the other existence until I heard Aunt Margaret calling down the stairwell for Uncle Hal to come to dinner.
One moment I felt light and airy. The next heavy like an anvil had dropped to my feet.
You get used to it, Uncle Hal said. But it is worth it. The other existence is worth it.
What I remember is that there was an airiness and billowiness about the other existence.
Like there was no gravity, maybe. People were everywhere, in the last clothes they wore. Unfortunately, a lot of the burial clothes were not the most comfortable. My first question was: Isn’t there a clothing store anywhere?
Uncle Hal took me by the hand and we traveled without effort.
In the course of what seemed like minutes we filtered past Abe Lincoln, without a stovepipe hat but plenty of blood stains on the back of his head; Jesus Christ…oh those spiked hands; Josef Stalin and his walrus mustache; and Jim Morrison with a bottle of beer in his hand staggering somewhere.
It’s like a history lesson, I said to Uncle Hal.
He grinned.
Imagine riding a motorcycle with the air flowing into your face and the freedom of nothing around you. That’s what the other existence is like…except you are not riding a motorcycle, you are just moving about like you were.
You could tell the new people coming in. Some were disfigured by the accident that killed them. Some were just worn out and their body gave up. But they all looked surprised, eyes wide open in awe, grateful that there is another existence, not just the end.
Newcomers are pesky, Uncle Hal said. They’re always asking questions. C’mon, figure it out for yourself. You’ve got all the time you need.
Time. Hmmm. Is there such a thing as time in this other existence?
Not on your life, Uncle Hal said.
That’s why I can’t wait to get there.
No more deadlines.
No more boss telling me I need that done like right now.
No need for money or anything to eat.
Could death be so bad, then?
Not when another existence is waiting.
I don’t know about you, but the only person I ever met who came back from the other side is my uncle Hal.
Uncle Hal, when he was a young man, got hit by a drunk driver. As he describes it he didn’t know he was dead…he couldn’t tell the difference. In fact he didn’t figure it out until the doctors revived him and he felt a tingling sensation across his skin and the next thing he knew his wife, Aunt Margaret, was talking to him, telling him he should have swerved when he saw the headlights.
He describes death as "just another existence."
There were people all around, streets and roads and buildings, the sky was blue and there were bilky clouds. He remembers he never had to use a door…just filter through the wall to get inside.
But people had no feet, just a wispy tail that trailed into a cloudy point as it touched the ground.
One thing he liked was that everyone was there – grandma and grandpa, great grandma and great grandpa, great great grandma and great great grandma. You get the point. Everybody who has ever lived was there.
Hitler was still Hitler. "Cept this time people ignored him. He rose to power during an
economically depressed era. Since there is no money in this other existence, he lost his power base. Heinrich Himmler had to go back to chicken farming.
If death had been miserable, then that carried over, my uncle Hal said. JFK was there but part of his skull wasn’t. It wasn’t like you were made whole again. Just that you could carry on.
Uncle Hal said he spent a couple of weeks in the other existence. The doctor’s chart shows he was in a coma for about the same time.
When I got older I began to wonder if Uncle Hal simply dreamed this other existence up while he was in a coma.
One day I brought that idea to him. Ha! he cried. You doubter, you. I will take you there.
I had just gotten home from high school, so I had a couple of hours before dinner.
That’s plenty of time, Uncle Hal said. And he led me downstairs to his basement.
He told me to face the wall. I heard him fidget with something and then my lights went out.
I didn’t know I had traveled to the other existence until I heard Aunt Margaret calling down the stairwell for Uncle Hal to come to dinner.
One moment I felt light and airy. The next heavy like an anvil had dropped to my feet.
You get used to it, Uncle Hal said. But it is worth it. The other existence is worth it.
What I remember is that there was an airiness and billowiness about the other existence.
Like there was no gravity, maybe. People were everywhere, in the last clothes they wore. Unfortunately, a lot of the burial clothes were not the most comfortable. My first question was: Isn’t there a clothing store anywhere?
Uncle Hal took me by the hand and we traveled without effort.
In the course of what seemed like minutes we filtered past Abe Lincoln, without a stovepipe hat but plenty of blood stains on the back of his head; Jesus Christ…oh those spiked hands; Josef Stalin and his walrus mustache; and Jim Morrison with a bottle of beer in his hand staggering somewhere.
It’s like a history lesson, I said to Uncle Hal.
He grinned.
Imagine riding a motorcycle with the air flowing into your face and the freedom of nothing around you. That’s what the other existence is like…except you are not riding a motorcycle, you are just moving about like you were.
You could tell the new people coming in. Some were disfigured by the accident that killed them. Some were just worn out and their body gave up. But they all looked surprised, eyes wide open in awe, grateful that there is another existence, not just the end.
Newcomers are pesky, Uncle Hal said. They’re always asking questions. C’mon, figure it out for yourself. You’ve got all the time you need.
Time. Hmmm. Is there such a thing as time in this other existence?
Not on your life, Uncle Hal said.
That’s why I can’t wait to get there.
No more deadlines.
No more boss telling me I need that done like right now.
No need for money or anything to eat.
Could death be so bad, then?
Not when another existence is waiting.
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