I always heard it said that when a person dies their spirit stays close to their body for three days. I never really thought that much about it....until I died.
I discovered the truth while I watched the doctors and nurses working tirelessly over my dead body in a futile attempt to resuscitate me. I had heard stories of people who had near death experiences floating near the ceiling above the scene. It was not that way for me. I stood silent and helpless in the corner as they called time of death. I walked beside the stretcher as my body was prepared to be transported to the funeral home.
My husband took it hard when the doctor told him I was gone. Too bad he didn't take me that seriously when I was alive.
Where was that tunnel and white light everyone talks about? Where were the angels and the pearly gates? Where were the departed loved ones gathered to welcome me? There was only emptiness and isolation more desolate than I knew could even exist.
I watched as the mortician prepared and embalmed my body. Why were they doing this? I had requested immediate cremation and scattering of my ashes. This was not what I wanted, these were not my final wishes and I was helpless to stop it. Oh No, too much make up and I never wore my hair that way! God, I hated that dress and never wore it. I remembered telling my husband it looked like a shroud.
At the funeral the dreary organ music droned on and on until I wanted to scream but was unable to utter a sound. I stood next to the casket as the mourners filed by to pay their final respects. Any respect at all would be more than they afforded me in life. If one more person said how natural I looked or how peaceful, I would strangle them, if only I could get those cold, stiff hands to work one last time. When the preacher finished eulogizing me those who didn't know me would have thought I was a saint. I'm sure everyone who knew me was not convinced, I know I wasn't.
At last the casket lid was closed amid the tears of those who would no longer see my face. I rode in the back of the hearse next to the casket and stood beside the open grave as last words of comfort were spoken to the grief stricken and the casket was lowered into the earth.
So now it was over, the three days, the funeral. Now I could depart this earthly plane. I waited and nothing happened. What now? I rode in the passenger seat while my husband drove us home. I had never been this angry with anyone. For the last three days I had endured unspeakable despair at my dead state, disgust at the dishonesty of those who stood over my body professing grief I knew they didn't feel and an anger that burned hotter than any I'd ever known before because my last wishes had been ignored. Why did he put me through this? Why could he not respect my last wishes? Was this his final act of control, the ultimate demonstration of disrespect?
Maybe my spirit would be here longer than three days, maybe it would always be here. I determined that I would spend every moment haunting him, making him afraid and miserable. A new and very sinister idea entered my thoughts. I would make that bastard wish he had cremated me three days ago.
I exerted all the hate and energy I could summon to bear on his mind and will. He screamed in fright as his foot pressed down hard on the accelerator while his hand involuntarily jerked the steering wheel hard to the right side of the road. Just before the car struck a massive oak tree head on, I whispered in his ear,
Starting in that fourth paragraph… Oh, the horror! I can just imagine a woman seeing what's being done to her body all the wrong way.
That was a nice little twist at the end. What might've been another entry would be to have her wake up, dreaming the whole thing.
Finally, I wonder how many people do not have their last wishes honored. A friend of mine with spinal cord injury (several surgeries) who I helped, told me that she put me in her will. However, the last I heard, her family couldn't find her will and they couldn't get into her computer because she had put a password on it. She had a rather lavish funeral.
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
