Waiting in an Imaginary Lineup, We Can't Avoid

As I slowly allowed myself to slide off the wharf at my Grandparents' cottage back in the summer of 1983, my intuition guided me into the water. Under I went at the age of three while my father was out fishing in the distance, and my mother was on the lawn sun tanning.

I remember feeling at peace as I bobbed underwater. Perhaps I thought I was a fish since I didn't panic while I was drowning until my mother dragged me up to the surface, and I broke the silence of the lake with my screeching screams.

This was my first experience with my possible death.

My second encounter wasn't as pleasant at the age of twenty-seven.

It was late at night, and my ex-boyfriend and I just shut off the TV and said good night when two strange men entered his room with sawed-off shotguns.

"Under the covers, and you won't die," one of the gunmen urged.

We panicked under the blankets for about ten minutes while they robbed the house and decided to take my ex's car as the getaway vehicle. Holding a gun up to his head left me feeling the terror of the possibility of death for both of us, but luckily, they left the room and spared our lives.

How many exits do we have before taking the final one?

Then came my third encounter with the possibility of death after having a 21-inch benign tumour removed. It resided under my left armpit for approximately two years; the doctor mentioned I had a 1 percent chance of it proliferating into cancer. Even though the circumstances were low, it was mentally exhausting to think about while I had to wait for surgery, and because of Covid-19, the waiting list was backed up.

So, of course, I went down the rabbit hole and started wondering about death and the possibility of it happening to me and if I would be around for my forties.

When the doctor gave me the anesthesia during surgery, it was the first time, I could feel my body disconnect from my brain, it slowly started to shut down, and as my eyes darted around the room in a panic, the last thought that came to me is this must be what death feels like. Then complete blackout.

The doctor successfully removed the tumour.

I was happy to escape death's grip yet again since I wasn't ready to exit this realm.

I watched a movie recently called Gods of Egypt, and in one of the scenes, they line up the dead to bring them to their final destination; I found it interesting because it made me wonder if the next stop after dying was a place to decide your faith. Of course, many religions have their interpretations, and I'm sure we all have heard of the afterlife by now, but what is it?

After my Grampy Lawrence passed away, he met me in my dreams on his way through to the other side, we engaged in a soulful hug, and both of us shattered into bright pieces of dust. It's the only way I can explain it; it felt like my soul connected with his; I felt at peace with his passing. It's the closest I've come to an understanding of the afterlife and the feeling that we all have somewhere to go.

The body dies, but the soul lives on.

I haven't come across many people that I can talk to about death with. Most are uncomfortable and fear the unknown. Perhaps some aren't in touch with their soul? We only seem to pay attention to death with the passing of someone; we pay for funeral expenses and a few hours of a ceremony and a lifetime of pain and wondering why?

Death is a scary topic because it's the unknown; most people aren't thinking about their death, but what if we changed our perception and started to embrace the thought of it before we got sick or passed away. Could it give us more peace? Would we be able to change our destiny with death? If we are creators in this realm, could we create our death if we embraced it and understood it?

I guess that would be up to you; for me, death has touched me a few times in the last forty years, but it hasn't wanted to take me yet, and I feel that's because I wasn't ready to go.

Since I can remember, being in touch with my soul is something I felt from an early age, and it's not because my parents told me to believe in God or a higher power. It's because I've always been able to feel the connection of something bigger than myself.

At this point in my life, I understand that I am a spirit having a human experience living in this realm, so if that is what I believe, then why should I ever fear my death?