What is it like to die?
We lost our brother this past week. He died on a Wednesday morning. It was a heart attack, or so they believe. He’d had two heart attacks before; his heart was in such bad condition that he needed a new one, and he was on the transplant list for a while. But he also had severe kidney issues which made a transplant more dangerous.
I don’t know all the details about his health issues or anything else about his life. The last contact I had with him was at my mother’s funeral four years ago, and even then, he wouldn’t speak to me. Everyone at his funeral talked about what a wonderful guy he was, and how kind, caring, and helpful he was. That was not my experience with him. I never met that man.
There must have been a time when we were children that we got along. I have a picture of the two of us when I was two and he was four. We are standing next to each other with his arm around my shoulders, smiling. But I don’t remember that. The only memories I have are of him either beating on me, teasing me unceasingly, or…other things I don’t care to mention. He made my otherwise happy childhood a living hell.
I don’t dwell on the idea of dying. But I sometimes wonder what it feels like and how the transformation from a living being to the separation of spirit and flesh takes place. I remember a night when I was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness; I found that I could not move and there was only darkness around me. Silence filled the room and I felt as though I was lying in a void I could not escape. I began to wonder if I had died and that this darkness and silence were really all there was in death. I wasn’t afraid, but I felt something was wrong. Then I realized that I was still aware of myself, and I thought, “If this is all there is after death, will I spend eternity in this state? Is there nothing else?”
I began to pray, asking God if I had done something so wrong that I deserved to lie in this state of nothingness. Was this what hell really is – spending eternity in utter darkness? As I prayed, the tears began to roll down my face unbidden and I begged for forgiveness. “Please don’t let me spend the ages here all alone. The darkness does not frighten me, but being alone with no family and no friends is my worst nightmare.”
Suddenly I was able to rouse myself from my half-sleep state and realized I was still very much alive. And I rejoiced and cried again – not bitter tears, but with gratefulness at being alive and given another chance to make my life more meaningful.
So, was this what death is really like – an endless awareness without light or love? Or can death be what we have been promised in scripture – eternity with our loved ones in the presence of Christ and our Heavenly Father? I choose to believe that death is what we make it to be in our earthly state: a place full of joy and happiness, or an endless darkness, tortured by the memories of a meaningless existence full of hate and indifference.
I forgave my brother a long time ago. I know not everything that happened was his fault. I sometimes took advantage of the times I could avenge myself with payback. And his worst offenses against me were influenced by others; and yet, he was responsible for his own actions. Perhaps the memory of those events is what caused him to be the kind of man all those who spoke at his funeral testified of him. We cannot know what is truly in another's heart; whether he confessed and received forgiveness from our Heavenly Father for his offenses is not for me to know. What my prayer is and should be is that he knows that I forgave him and still love him no matter what. My prayer now is that he is greeted by our father and mother and that all is forgiven. I pray that they will teach him what they have learned, that his heart is changed for the better, and that he will be there in the end and we can be a family again with our arms around each other’s shoulders and big smiles on our faces.
