The Death of Me

PART  1
I knew I was going to die. I mean, going to die in a prescribed number of months and weeks, not like everybody knows they are going to die someday.

I told the doctors to give it to me straight. No hedging around, no false hopes, no patting me on the head and trying to make me feel better. They meant well, and they worried about me.

Little did they know that I regarded death as the ultimate adventure, the answer to all my questions, at last.  Of course, I had a little apprehension.  Who wouldn’t?  But for the most part, I wanted to KNOW!  It was exciting and wonderful to finally find out what happens after death.

All the stuff about a red devil in a fiery hell; angels on clouds and streets paved with gold; or that middle one they call purgatory. I always laugh at that – mentally picturing very small people sloshing around in coffee pots, confined there to percolate over their lives, what they did good and what they did bad.

And all that crap about religion. People have actually knocked on my door to inform me that I will burn in hell if I do not immediately attend their church, accept their idea of who to worship, make sizeable donations, and go door-to-door like they do. They call it “witnessing.” I call it meddling in other peoples’ business.

Churches aren’t the only ones who do this. Whole countries meddle. The United States will condone the behavior of missionaries who travel all over the world to tell people they will die and go to hell if they do not give up their current religion (whatever it may be) and become Christians. I dislike this for a multitude of reasons, not least among them that the missionaries often get arrested and jailed for their interference, and then our own military people must risk their lives trying to free them.

I consulted Wikipedia, and learned that the major religions of the world include:

  • Christians:     2,100,000,000
  • Muslims:        1,500,000.000
  • Of No Religion:   1,000,000,000
  • Hindus:  900,000,000
  • Chinese Folk Religionists:  400,000,000
  • Primal Religionists:   400,000,000
  • Buddhists:   375,000,000
  • Sikhs:  24,000,000
  • Jews:  14,500,000
  • Baha’is:  7,400,000
  • Jains:  4,300.000
  • Shintoists:   4,000,000
  • Taoism:  2,700,000
  • (Thank you to World Religions-Populations Pie Chart Statistics List at WWW.age-of-the-sage.org)

PAUSE FOR INCIDENT

Please forgive me for pausing. My caregiver just found me unconscious on the floor, and has helped make me more comfortable. I seem to be okay now, except for a very bad black eye. It has a strange hardness to it and looks very black and shiny. Doesn’t hurt, though.

I see I need to apologize for my more than necessary attention to religion, as religion is only a small part of the knowledge I seek during my death process. The actual numbers as related to reincarnation are staggering.

I am very ignorant about religion. When I was a teenager, I was engaged to marry a Catholic boy. I was told by his family that I must take Catholic Instruction and become a Catholic before they would permit us to marry. I dutifully trudged to instruction day after day, week after week, and tried to make my mind be a Catholic. Finally, a panel of priests called me into conference to inform me that I had too many questions, and that I had no faith, and therefore, would not be accepted into the Catholic religion.

I don’t know if all those tears were of laughter, sadness or relief. No overbearing mother-in-law, no pimply-faced teenaged husband, no long, boring church services, and the end of seeking after religion; for me, forever. Done. Settled.

I do know that of that long list of religions that I compiled before my face met the rug under the desk, that there is great conflict among the various worshipers. They all believe their own church is the only true one, and they will inherit the earth while everyone else goes to hell or elsewhere.

PAUSE FOR INCIDENT

That was a bad one, but I’m okay now. Let’s get to the exciting part! REINCARNATION!!!

To quote Fox Mulder, “I want to believe!” The idea that any of us have lived and died before is just mesmerizing to me. I might have been, and you might have been…

 A slave who helped build the pyramids and died of heatstroke
 A Scottish child who got lost on the moors
 A traveler who dined or was dined upon at Donner Pass
 A caveman or cavewoman who was buried alive in an earthquake
 An African woman who died of starvation during the birth of her 9th   child
 A fisherman among 160,000 who died in the 2010 Haiti earthquake
 A farm worker who drowned along with 4,000,000 others during 1931 floods in China

What happened to all these people after they died? Where did they go? Heaven? Hell? Another planet? Cold storage facility? There are millions of theories, books written (Remember Bridey Murphy?), prophecies, past life therapy sessions, personal accounts from people who claim to have died and come back to life; little children who “remember.”

Have they become ghosts? Animals? Some people swear their little dogs and cats are waiting for them in heaven. Presumably their fleas and worms, too?

If all of the gazillions of people who have lived and died on earth were reincarnated again and again, we wouldn’t have room for a flea, or anything else. I have to count on my fingers, so I don’t know how to put this in mathematical terms, but just think what the multiplication of people would be over time.

I like the idea of reincarnation. Always have. Always wanted someone to come up with even just one solid piece of proof. Since none is forthcoming, I will try to find that truth myself through keeping a record of my own death process.

Right now, I am having an aura, signaling one of my oncoming attacks. My vision is full of bright sparkles; I smell unidentified odd scents; my limbs feel rigid, and it is difficult to breathe. I will go lie down for a while, and will continue my story when I have rested.

 

PAUSE FOR INCIDENT
I am in a warm, totally dark place. Strangely enough, I can see, but I don’t know what I am seeing. There are strong smells that both attract and repel me. I can’t feel my body; just hard, scaly textures where my arms and legs should be. I hear the sounds of people talking softly, some crying and some laughing.

Perhaps I am in a coma, in a hospital bed. I no longer feel pain, but feel something I can only describe as the absence of life. I think I might have died, but I hear the voices of people around me.

NEW LOCATION: Coffin

“Well, at least we got a few dozen to attend. It was embarrassing, having to almost bribe people to come to her funeral.”
“You’re having a little gathering at your house after the service?”

“Yes, as her sister, I felt I had to take care of things. Nobody else wanted to. At least, she left me a sizable chunk of her fortune, so I can’t complain. She was not much of a writer, in my opinion, but she was a brilliant businesswoman, I’ll give her that.”

“I worked for her for 20 years, and she never gave me credit for anything. I shouldn’t speak ill, but she was cheap and mean, even though she tried to act like she had a million adoring fans and friends. I tried to be friendly, but when I asked her to lunch one day, she looked at me like I was a slave asking the queen to eat with him down at the garbage dump.”

“Well, it wasn’t just you. She was a vain, selfish woman, rude to everybody. I don’t know for sure, you know, but there is sort of a family story that she was going to be married when she was in her teens, but the young man’s parents didn’t want her in the family. It was then that she turned against the world. Well, let’s get her planted and get all this over with.”

Death at Last

 

 

So I heard my sister speaking to one of my employees, and I knew. I was dead, and I was in the coffin with the dead human body I was leaving behind. I had to get out of the coffin before they closed the lid and got on with the burial.

I seemed to be stuck there, wedged in a small slippery space with a tunnel on one end and an opening at the top. I wriggled and squirmed, and finally crawled out of what I vaguely knew was my own ear.

Human traits melted away from me as I quickly scrambled down the varnished side of the coffin. I saw that I was quite handsome, a glossy body about a half-inch long with two light brown stripes behind my head. I had thin, spikey legs, appendages that would someday become wings, and delicate antennae with which I could communicate with other cockroaches and sense the presence of food and water.

The great mystery of life, death, and reincarnation has now been solved. Since I can no longer speak, never mind type, I cannot communicate this great truth to you, as I had hoped. Besides, I sense a warm, dark, safe place nearby, and I must seek protection there while I recover from my rebirth.

BREAKING NEWS: A freak accident occurred Wednesday afternoon on Sharples Road, in front of the Eternal Living Cemetery. Evelyn Parish Meade was killed in a single vehicle car crash. She was just leaving the cemetery after the funeral of her sister, Charlotte Parish, the renowned author and publishing mogul. A cause for the accident could not be determined, but first responders said she was screaming about having something in her ear that would eat her brain. Apparently she was in a state of traumatic grief over the death of her sister, and was declared dead on arrival at Central City Hospital.

Author’s Note:

This story is fiction in its entirety, at least, as far as I know. Over a period of three weeks, this account of life, death and reincarnation was produced during several sessions of a process called Automatic Writing. It did require some spelling and grammar changes and a general clean-up, but the information contained is basically what was received.

From Sweet Nan:

Thank you for visiting Psychic Flashes.  Please come again.

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