|
Everyone dies at one time or another. Death exempts no one, not even the rich or famous. When death occurs, what happens? Do lifeless bodies simply disappear in a cemetery, mausoleum, or crematory? Is a span of years on earth all anyone can rightfully expect to live? Does dying represent life’s eventual goal, as some are likely to contend? Will the dead one day be resurrected to live for all eternity, as some religious creeds believe? These and other puzzling questions perplexed me most of my life. My quest for provable answers provided a whole new outlook and a reason for my existence. Today I face my eventual demise without fear or foreboding. My earliest death and dying experience occurred while I was yet in high school. During an impending storm, lightning killed classmate Roger Phelan, a longtime boyhood friend. He perished while seeking shelter under a tree where we sometimes played as youngsters. Roger’s untimely passing left me troubled and concerned. During these many years without him, I still miss his caring companionship. The day after his funeral service, I posed a pertinent question to our pastor. “During your graveside sermon you made a startling assertion . . . that Roger still lives. Can you justify your contention?" I waited expectantly, peering at our pastor across his study’s desk. “Our young friend isn’t dead, as some may be likely to suppose,” he hastened to assure me. “When life left his body, his conscious self, or spirit, left for another realm, where now he lives and will for all eternity.” “You have proof that an afterlife exists?” I asked. “Not really,” he admitted. “We clergy regard death as an imponderable, accepted on faith alone.” Unconvinced, I thanked our pastor for the time he spent with me, then left for home. The following morning, I came up with a definite plan. For years, if necessary, I would search for specific proof an afterlife existed. It is doubtful that I then understood the magnitude of my undertaking. Where should I start my self-imposed quest? Our minister, sensing my bewilderment, volunteered the use of books from his personal library. Religions of the ages described my need to know but without definite proof. The summer after high school graduation revealed interesting and provocative information. No mortal, after dying, had returned from the “great beyond” to explain experiences there. Even Houdini the master magician and escape artist, after his death, failed to meet at a set time with a trusted friend. College provided more specific information, especially an elective course I chose in addition to my business study. Religions of the World proved to be both interesting and helpful. During the study, I quickly discovered that other worldwide faiths, in addition to the Christian creed, believed when the body dies the soul or spirit continues to live. Unfortunately not one provided definite proof. Still I continued with my search. After college graduation, ideas generated by the study continued to intrigue me. Long after I became an adult and raised a family of my own, I learned of individuals who claimed they had afterlife answers. Clinically-dead and later revived, they professed to have glimpsed the afterlife, a place of unexcelled beauty. I talked to several who assured me they had seen the great beyond. Individuals who experienced out-of-body incidents indicated that they too had glimpsed an afterlife. I remained somewhat skeptical until our oldest daughter, Rosemary, related to family members the unusual happenings during the birth of her third child by Cesarean section. “While the attending physician and nurses worked frantically to save my life and baby,” she related, “a part of my body I did not know existed moved upward. From my elevated vantage point, I watched the below proceedings with impersonal detachment, unconcerned whether my body continued to live or succumbed. I could hear everything they were saying, and watched them performing surgery on my body as if it were simply a movie and had nothing to do with me. “I felt myself floating toward the doorway, away from the surgical team. Somehow I knew that if I went through that doorway, I could never return to my body. Although the feeling of complete peace and tranquillity was something I hated to give up, I wanted to be able to raise my new son. Upon making that decision, I found myself instantly back within my body.” “Delusion of an overstressed condition?” I pondered. Pollster George Gallup, Jr., and psychiatrist Raymond Moody believe our daughter’s experience is far from unique. In his book Adventures in Immortality, Gallup states that more than 8 million people in the United States alone have had a near-death or mystical experience. Years after Roger’s premature passing, I now face my own impending demise. Do I believe in a deity who guides individual lives and destiny? It is extremely doubtful that an orderly universe just happened of its own accord. I continue to have questions. What power guides the planets in their precise swing through space? Few thinkers can account for outer space. What lies beyond? Many questions remain unanswered. The power I recognize guides the entire universe, yet is as close as my two hands. Life after death actually exists. More evidence becomes increasingly available than can be found and understood. After we die, what will happen? It’s doubtful a new role will be flying from cloud to cloud, twanging on a celestial harp. Conception, birth, and growth of my earthly body can be explained biologically. Yet where was I two years before my appearance here? When I was born into my current life, the years ahead remained a question mark. Neither do I know what the next phase may be. No matter how long I live on earth, I am but a temporary resident. Years ago, I learned that everyone has no more than a life lease on possessions, to be relinquished when departure time arrives. I accept the foregone conclusion that my life on earth eventually will be terminated. The event cannot be avoided, only postponed by caring for my presently-occupied body. Until my demise eventually takes place, I would like to be engaged in some worthy pursuit and make my exit somewhat like a tune-felt fiddle string that feels the master melody, then snaps. Will I disappear into nothingness? I firmly believe future life provides more than can be realized or proven. When my time comes to depart, I’ll have no choice but to respond. And then my questions will finally be answered. When I’ve gone If death ends all If you have questions or comments about this Web page or site, e-mail: mary@vanmeer.com © 2002 Leo VanMeer |