I've got a busy day ahead, culminating in a party here tonight, and I wrenched my knee last week and the doctor can't see me until Tuesday, so I don't have time to spend on the blog. Therefore I'll tackle a simple topic that arose in the comments from yesterday. Is there life after death?
The answer is, I don't know. One of my husbands was trained as a lawyer and arguing with him taught me that there are three answers to every yes-or-no question (John Sweden: "Yes or Know" question). The three answers are: Yes, no, or I don't know.
I am fascinated by the many stories of those who had near-death experiences. My brother had one which he only related to me recently, about the time he had a serious heart attack. He was 34 years old and driving with his wife to Hollywood where he intended to make it in the movies. The paramedics got him to a hospital but he was, for all practical purposes, gone. Flatlining. What happened to him was that a figure appeared to him and led him into a very light place, telling him he was going to be his guide. Well, the passenger wasn't willing. My brother is very engaging, full of wit and stories, and he went into his usual routine with this messenger-type, who clearly found his wit charming and got all the jokes. But the gist of it was, Graham insisted that he wanted to stay -- he had work to do here. Hollywood was waiting. He was tired of waiting on the bench and was just about to get in the game. The messenger-angel was convinced, and said, "You're not ready? You really want to stay?" and Graham said, "Yeah, yeah, I have to stay," or words to that effect. In the meantime, he's floating on the ceiling over the body that was him, and looking at that machine that has a flat line on it, and sees a nurse rush with alarm to the body. Next thing he knew he was back in that body. He is still here to tell the tale, but he almost never does. Now that I've outed him on the Internet he may have to weave this into his one-man show.
Later he told me that he saw a PBS special that describes the condition Robin outlined in her comment yesterday. It seems science has robbed us of that shred of fair hope by saying there are certain brain reactions that occur with the trauma of death that are not unlike dreams. There is a scientific explanation for the white light, for the angels, for the message that your life has not been for naught, even for the sense of hope and love that many experience when in that death aura.
Maybe they're right, like Robin's grandpa. It's all just a big brainfart.
But I just don't like to think of it that way. And I don't think it matters what I think, I look forward to that moment. I've had beautiful dreams that infuse my soul with something like pure happiness, and I want another one. Even if I have to die to get it.