Walking toward the light

Angels?  Ghosts?  Spirits?  Guardian angels?  Evil spirits?  Are they real?  Do they float around in the world, interfering in lives?  Do they try to communicate?  Is there an afterlife?  So many questions, so few answers.  Of all the things in the world that would finally send some peace to my soul - it was a stupid sit com.  I don't even remember which one.  The gist of the lines that hit me squarely in the face was that "if you have had a near death or a walk to the light experience, and it was good, then why are you afraid of death?" 

Am I afraid if death anymore?  Not really.  Am I afraid of growing old?  Well, heck yes!  But my reasoning for not fearing death anymore starts back on May 22, 1998.  It happened when we had a horrible car accident in Iowa, on our way to our son's college graduation from Northland College in Ashland, Wisconsin.  We had the seats laid down in the back of the van so we could rotate sleeping and drive all night.  None of us had much leave time to take, so we wanted to make the best use of our time. We hit a bridge embankment at 65 mph.  Hubby and I were taking our turn sleeping. When we hit, he slid forward and hit his head against the back of the driver's seat.  That was what put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.  I was flipped in the air, through the center of the front seats, and landed upside down on the floor of the passenger seat.  I was literally on top of my daughter.  She slid out from under me, eased me back in the seat.  Then she crawled into the middle seats, and tried to get the window open so she could get out.  Everything in the car was electric, and with the crash, the battery was gone, and nothing electric worked. The windows wouldn't roll down, and the doors wouldn't open.   Our daughter had to pry open the side window which opened sideways and then crawl out.  There was a huge hole in the ground where the post for the bridge had been,  When we hit it, the bridge post was torn out and tossed into the ditch.  She fell into that hole when she climbed out the window.  She was barefoot and had no coat on.

Shortening this - eventually there were 3 ambulances, 3 firetrucks, 2 or 3 highway patrol cars, several deputies cars, and some Mason City police cars. I think there must have been around 20 vehicles at the scene.  It was pitch black because it was 4 in the morning. It was freezing cold - probably around 38 degrees. The firetrucks had their generators on, there were flashing lights for a mile, huge flood lights were mounted everywhere and the noise was unbearable.  I was the only one left in the van because they could not get me out without the jaws of life.  I say all of this to make the death experience make more sense.  The rescue workers laid a heavy cover over me, and smashed out the windshield. The noise was so scary, and then I felt the glass pieces fall onto the cover.  The rescue men began to use the jaws of life to cut me out. Noise of the jaws of life, people shouting, the generators running full blast, huge blazing lights all over the area, dozens of men surrounding the car and flashing strobe lights and headlights from all the vehicles and it was so very, very cold, even with blankets all over me.

 My son in law slid into the driver's seat to comfort me while the hubby was already traveling in one  ambulance to the hospital.   Our daughter, 2 year old granddaughter and our unborn granddaughter were being cared for in another ambulance.  Just in a blink of an eye, all of that noise, that freezing cold air, the glaring flood lights and strobes all faded away.  I didn't walk to the light, I was just there.  I was in a room that didn't seem to have any walls.  The light was soft whitish yellow, it was absolutely quiet, and the air was warm.  It felt like I was wrapped in a warm hug from someone who loved me.  I have never felt so much peace before or after as I did then.  Forgive the pun, but it was heaven.

I could hear my son in law trying to get my attention.  He was frantic - he kept yelling my name, over and over.  I heard him, but I ignored him because I didn't want to leave this warm, peaceful place. I kept on ignoring him until he finally yelled and called me mom, instead of my name, and I was back at the accident.  By now, the pain was hideous, an EMT was behind me, holding me against the seat with a neck brace and giving me oxygen, and there were rows of rescue workers, EMT's and firemen lining the area where they were using the jaws.  Every so often, they would pause a minute to ask me if I was alright and to explain what they were doing next.  I looked up at them and asked them to please just let me die, please. I begged and begged and begged.   Every breath I took was like breathing in shards of glass.  I remember a fireman in a yellow slicker who had obviously been burned severely in a fire - with scars all over his face - and he had tears streaming down his face.  The really really young EMT was crying also and he told me in no uncertain terms that he absolutely would not let me die.  Then I was in the soft hug again.  This repeated several times until they finally were able to put a backboard behind me and slide me up over the seat and out of the van.  Then I was in an ambulance and on the way to the hospital.

Many people say that our brain does very strange things in a time of crisis, and that it is just a hallucination or a reaction of the brain to the pain and shock of the accident.  Maybe.  But what happened to me was as real as me sitting here typing on my computer.  I haven't shared this with many people before now,  because I don't like the reactions I get.  Some disbelief, some  just roll their eyes, some look at me with pity (like I am a nut case), and others just walk away. 

That night, when I watched that silly sitcom - it hit me.  If dying means going to that beautiful, quiet, warm and peaceful place, then why should I ever be afraid to die?   

I am not a doctor, nor do I have even close to enough medical knowledge to know whether it was a hallucination, or some other medical term so that scientists can explain it to their satisfaction.  I learned a long, long time ago that everything in this old world cannot be explained in black and white.  So for me, I believe I did experience a quick step into whatever life is beyond this one, and I found it to be a world of peace and happiness.  It has been 13 1/2 years but it still feels like yesterday.

Peace to all of you who read this.