Afterlife

I absolutely agree. No doubt about it

 

More than one person has asked me to tell the story behind my post earlier on this thread, so -- come what may -- here it is:

In late June, when my mother was still so sedated it was as if she were in a coma, my sisters and I decided we would each have private time with her to say whatever we wanted to say to her before it was too late. When my turn came, I said things I won't repeat here, but I also talked about my decision to stop attending church -- something that she always had trouble understanding. I told her I couldn't promise I would start going again, but I said, "If you move on to a better place and want to let me know that, I promise I will be open to that."

During my visit with her, a hospital staffer came in to take the ventilator tube out for a few minutes. They had her on a high-pressure vent, and from time to time they had to let the excess air escape so her lungs wouldn't burst. This was the first time I'd heard of that or seen them do that, and what happened startled me. Her cheeks flapped vigorously (picture a video close-up of someone parachuting) as the air came out. The staffer explained everything was OK, then left after reconnecting the vent.

About a week later, upon the advice of the medical team, we took her off the ventilator, and the ravages of the lymphoma and multiple bouts with pneumonia took their final toll. Without the aid of the vent, she was able to breathe for less than an hour. As her breaths became more infrequent -- up to 10 seconds between them at times -- my sisters and I wondered which would be the last. Was that it? Is she gone? And then another breath would come, and the cycle would repeat itself.

My sisters were sitting to my mother's right. I was seated on her left, holding her hand. After a markedly feeble exhale, I felt a surge of energy go through my left hand and arm, and then my body. I turned to look at the clock -- 1:13 p.m. -- and looked at my sisters. They were looking at each other, then at me, as if to say, "Well?" And I said, "She's gone. Did you feel that?" They asked what I meant. I waited, and when it was obvious there would be no more breaths, I told them what I'd felt.

They didn't say they felt what I'd felt, but our attention soon turned to the realization that our mother was gone.

A couple of hours later, after the paperwork and the arrangements for the body were made, I went back to the hotel nearby to sleep. I'd been there 19 days, usually spending 12-16 hours in the hospital, much of that in my mother's room, and I hadn't really slept in two days. I told my sisters not to expect me at mom's house -- about two and a half hours away -- until the next day. I was sure I'd sleep for 10-12 hours or more.

I have sleep apnea, as some of you might remember from a long time ago, and I cannot sleep without a C-PAP machine. I pulled on my bubble mask -- coincidentally, similar to the one my mother wore in the hospital -- and stretched out on the bed. Just as I was beginning to fall asleep, something startling happened. For the first time in nine years of using the C-PAP, my mouth popped open -- something I couldn't even force it to do previously without extraordinary effort. Then, my cheeks began flapping, and I heard this fluttering sound, and air began escaping from my throat and mouth, and I remember thinking, "Oh wow, this is what was happening to mom that day ..."

And before I could finish the thought, I felt the same warm rush of energy surge through my body. This time, it felt more peaceful, more reassuring, more comforting, and my face broke into a grin, and I thought about my mom's sense of humor and knew -- not intellectually, but in my being -- that was her way of telling me she was OK. That was her response to what I'd said that day in the hospital when I saw her expel air that way: that I'd be open to hearing from her if she wanted to let me know she'd gone on to a better place.

It's not like I'd planned it or even imagined it could happen. The amount of pressure I require on the C-PAP makes it all but impossible to voluntarily open my mouth, and it flew open -- for the first time ever with the machine on -- without warning. For a split-second, it scared and confused me. It's not like a light came on the dark on its own, or the TV came on, or I saw my mom's face, or I heard her favorite song playing. Instead, this crazy thing happened, and as soon as I had the "WTF" reaction, I thought of her that day in the hospital, and the moment she came to mind, I knew. I just knew.

 

I called my sister to tell her what happened, in case I fell asleep and never remembered it. I then quickly fell into a deep sleep, from which I woke up about two hours later. Stunned by the brevity of what turned out to be a nap instead of a marathon sleep session, I realized how refreshed I felt. I ate dinner, packed my bags, checked out of the hotel and headed east. When I reached my hometown, I kept going, driving another two and a half hours, full of energy and wanting to get home, where I live now, to take care of things after being away for 19 days and get clothes I'd need for the funeral. I was never tired, and I called a dear friend, a very religious friend, and told her what had happened. I realized how weird it sounded, and I understood it would probably never have the same meaning for others as it had for me, but on that night I felt -- and knew -- an unquestioned sense of peace and comfort, knowing my mom communicated with me. Whether she was an angel in heaven or part of the energy around me, I could not know, but for that night I had all of my notions of afterlife turned upside-down.

Weeks and months later, I've come to realize my brain keeps getting in the way when I remember that day. My intellect challenges it, doubts it and questions it, but when I recall how I felt, I relax and just let it be. I know what I felt. I can't explain it, and I don't know what it means, but it's always a comfort once I relax and let it be.

 

Terrific stuff, J_D.

Stuff like that happens in life, doesn't it? This is a little different, but I guess it's the same in a way (i.e. something beyond us being just a bundle of carbon, water and electricity).

My wife was in my English 101 class. I remember one day, out of the blue, this certainty hitting me: "I'm going to marry that girl right there." In my mind, I even pictured our dwelling, us lying in bed and watching something or talking about something ... this whole projection of who this girl I'd never met was and this feeling that she'd be a perfect mate for me.

Well anyway, that faded away, just like yours did, and as we began to by chance run with the same group a couple of years later, As it turned out, she had a long-term boyfriend, they were on the path to marriage, etc., etc.

Any way, a few years later we did end up talking, dating and, finally, tying the knot. Some time in the course of that time, it hit me suddenly: "Remember your freshmen year when for 5-10 seconds you just 'knew' she was going to be the one?" It almost gave me a chill.

Anyway ...

So after I started this thread, or a couple nights later, I have this dream where the grandfather I never met because he died when I was a baby shows up, and it felt as real as anything.

I was so excited. I was like, "You and I have SO much to catch up on! I've always wanted to meet you." I think he may have said something along the lines of, "Eventually." He acted normal - not like a ghost or anything creepy. And it felt normal. Even reassuring.

Obviously this stuff was on my mind anyway. But then part of your mind wonders, too ... maybe it really WAS him. In some way, shape or form that can't be explained.

 

I thought this was the afterlife.

 

From Monty Python's Meaning of Life:

It's Christmas in Heaven

Spoken: Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen,
It's truly a real honourable experience to be here this evening,
A wonderful and warm and emotional moment for all of us,
And I'd like to sing a song for all of you...

It's Christmas in Heaven,
All the children sing,
It's Christmas in Heaven,
Hark, hark, those church bells ring.
It's Christmas in Heaven.
The snow falls from the sky,
But it's nice and warm, and everyone
Looks smart and wears a tie.

It's Christmas in Heaven,
There's great films on TV,
'The Sound of Music' twice an hour,
And 'Jaws' One, Two, and Three.

Mary and Joseph: There's gifts for all the family.
There's toiletries and trains.
Three Kings: There's Sony Walkman Headphone sets
And the latest video games.

Everyone: It's Christmas! It's Christmas in Heaven!
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray!
Every single day
Is Christmas day!

It's Christmas! It's Christmas in Heaven!
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray!
Every single day
Is Christmas day!

Repeat chorus to fade...

 

Excellent story, Johnny. Thanks for sharing that with us. There are times when I've wondered about it, but I don't doubt anymore. I trust.

 

This is kind of the conclusion I've been heading towards as well, as unsettling as it might seem at first thought.

 

Time magazine explores this issue this week, in a roundabout way, in a big story on the new field of consciousness study (the Economist had something similar a few weeks ago, actually).

Basically, it seems that scientists are 99.99999999999 percent sure and getting more sure all the time that consciousness is 100 percent a function of physical processes, which takes the idea of a soul out of the equation.

It's unsettling stuff, of course. Science is essentially erasing the concept of God, at least the traditional concept of God, one study at a time. But this might be the biggest blow yet.

I think Man will be forced to go through a real self-evaluation eventually if the traditional foundation that gives meaning to our existence is pulled from under us. Scientists seem fairly certain that this existence is something that randomly came together - an infinite amount of monkeys tapping on an infinite amount of keyboards. After some angst from drifting, we'll probably - I hope - be forced to begin charting our own direction. It could even, in time, empower the species, once it realizes that there may be no master plan.

The one tough thing to stomach? Putting work in to advance the species, but knowing that we'll never see how it all ends and where it goes. That makes me sad.

 

I believe in God and and afterlife.

Great story, Johnny.

 

I guess the question then is, and this goes for anyone who answered in the affirmative, would any amount of scientific research to the contrary change your opinion or force you to re-examine it? Or would it simply strengthen your faith?

 

"Science" vs. my faith?

Right.

It would not change my beliefs at all.