Coming to Terms With Life After Death

You know, the thing about this whole mess is, well, it's what shocked me most. It was a woman that did the deed. And she was beautiful. You know, I hear all the stories, and watch all the movies, and they always seem to imply it's a he. Strangest part of all, is that there is a legitimate personification to this abstract concept. And this personification was a beautiful woman. Does that say something about me? Is it supposed to be some sort of metaphor? Is it supposed to be that I think death is a beautiful thing? I don't really think that's it though. I was scared shitless of dieing. I don't even think that would have been something subconscious. I'm pretty sure that Death is actually this ravishingly pretty blonde woman. I hope I get to meet her again, she was amazing. Friendlier than I expected, as well. Not at all frightening, or business like, very consoling. I guess she understands death more that anyone, you know. She knows what you're going through. All that was quite interesting, but by this time I was wondering what to do next.

I was in a large white room, with a white chair in the center. I had just woke up from what felt like a very long, comfortable sleep. I was sleeping on a hard wooden floor, that was painted an off red colour. I got to my feet and looked around. I saw the white chair in the center of the room, a door across the room from me, and a door behind me. I walked up to the chair, and looked at the cushion. There was a small envelope. I picked it up, ripped the side off, and pulled a note written on a piece of paper with the same off red colour as the floor. It read as Follows.

Dear Thomas,

I hope you enjoyed your nap. I did my best to make it comfortable. I haven't much to say to you yet, but I may have an infinite amount of wisdom to share if you make a certain choice here. Now, pay attention to this, because it is a big decision. You can walk forward, and go through that door, thus moving on, and away from what you have known. You can go through that back door, thus moving on from what you have known, as well as moving back to what you have known. Or you can sit in this chair and think. The chair is extra comfy, just in case you need to sit and think a while. It also reclines if you want to nap for a while.

Your friend, and much more,

Sir John A. MacDonald.

Just Kidding, I'm not Sir John MacDonald at all.

I stood a while in thought. The letter kind of confused me. Either I leave behind what I know, or I leave behind what I know, and go back to what I know. I never really was a big fan of change, so going back to what I knew seemed like a better plan. But before I went back, or away, or anywhere, I really wanted to know where the hell I was, so I went back and traced my steps.

Last I remember, I was looking for my car keys, which I had dropped in a puddle. I kicked around in the puddle, to avoid getting my hands wet. I managed to get my keys kicked out of the puddle, and into the center of the street. I ran into the street, leaned over to pick up the keys, was abruptly greeted by a Greyhound bus, that seemed incredibly intent on giving me a colossal sized hug. It then succeeded in giving me this colossal sized hug. It hugged me all the way into the middle of the next intersection, and I fell asleep. I then woke, and was greeted by that gorgeous woman, who called herself Death. We talked for a while, she stroked my face, and I passed out. Then I ended up here. I guess this is the afterlife, or at least a step towards that afterlife.

So, I thought to myself, 'Well, I guess I do want to go home. My chances of getting home are a lot better if I go back to what I know, whatever that is. But do I really want to go back to what I know. I mean, all I knew was a middle class desk job. Although, the letter said if I went back to what I know, I'd go back to something new as well. I guess my best choice in this situation is to go back.'

So I walked up to the back door. I reached out, turned the knob, and pulled it open. I was greeted immediately by an intensely thick, wet fog. I stepped out into the fog, and realized it wasn't fog at all. It was a cloud. Needless to say, clouds aren't the best way to support a person's weight, nor are they at all close to the ground. Another thing that I believe is needless to say, is that if you find yourself at the altitude or your average cloud, and are in the absence of an operational aircraft of some sort, gravity is indeed, a pain in the ass. Thusly, I began to fall.

It looked like it was going to be a long fall, and long trips without any company are incredibly boring. I began to dig through the pockets of my navy blue suit jacket. I had a deck of cards, but I couldn't see that playing out very well in this situation. I was terrible at solitaire anyway. I dug through my pockets for a while more, to see what I could find. I managed to dig up a piece of chewed gum I spat into a napkin, a few paperclips, a picture of my neighbour's cat, some pocket lint, and a pice of something brown that was covered on some parts by something black. This last little tidbit looked very interesting. I couldn't really tell if it was alive at some point or not, and if it was, I wasn't totally sure if it was deceased at this moment in time. Either way, I let it go, and hoped it was a lot better at flying than I was. So I pulled out my iPod, and started listening to some Billy Joel.

About three minutes into Piano Man, I noticed I was getting a lot closer to the ground. I popped my headphones out, and prepared for the impact. At that moment I realized that I was already dead, so I wondered if I needed to brace myself at all. I had nothing to fear, I didn't really need to do anything. I would just land. I then realized I was about twenty feet from the ground. I was about to land on the street just outside of the movie theatre on main street. About a second later, I didn't land on the street just outside of the movie theatre on main street. Instead, I fell right through the street just outside the movie theatre on main street. And I didn't stop. This was interesting, I fell right threw the sewer, where I saw a large man making love to a tiny woman, and then I kept falling. So I figured I should try bracing myself. It seemed to work. I slowed down significantly as soon as I tightened some of the muscles in my body. I looked around me, and saw a large amount of nothing, and dirt.

I had managed to stop moving, now I needed to start again, but going upwards. When I braced myself, and tightened my muscles, I stopped, so I figured if I loosened my muscles i would move again. That worked perfectly, but in the wrong direction. I braced myself again. I tried loosening my leg muscles, and tightening the ones in my upper body, and this seemed to work perfectly. I started to drift upwards. I floated for some time. I drifted right past the large man, and the tiny woman, who had finished what they were doing, and were proceeding to watch CNN on the television. I floated for a few more seconds, and rose up to the street. I was about a foot above the ground when I loosened all of the muscles in my body, and began to drift downwards. This time, instead of falling right through the pavement, I landed on it. I was quite content now, being able to feel the concrete feeling of concrete beneath my feet.

I looked around myself, and saw a very familiar site. In front of me was the National movie theatre. To my left, the Muskrat Motel, not exactly a sight for sore eyes. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be the exact opposite, so I let my gaze wander somewhere else. I walked down main street, in order to find a mirror, and see how I looked in my current, and quite unusual state. I reached the window of the flower shop, and looked at myself.

I was still in my navy blue suit, and slacks. Standard attire for my career, or rather, former career. My hair looked kind of messy, but otherwise, I looked well enough. I continued my walk down main street. I didn't really know where would be a good place to go for a dead person, so I figured I would head to my mother's house, and see how she was faring. I had just died after all, so this would at least be interesting, if not depressing.

With this thought, I walked towards my mother's house, and thought for a while. I thought about what life was going to be like now that I was dead. With that, I thought about the irony of this statement. I thought about rephrasing the statement, but then realized it made no difference, because I knew what I meant. So I thought about how irony was kind of a funny word. Just the sound of it. Irony. I-RON-y. I got bored of this quickly, so I thought about the recent election. With that, I wondered if I would be able to vote since I was dead. With that, I thought about whether or not me not being able to vote was fair. I thought about how we should protest this. With that, I thought about who we would be, seeing as couldn't see anyone around. With that, I remembered it was three PM on a Tuesday, so no one being around made sense. With, that, I arrived at my mother's house, and stopped the incessant rambling that was my thought process.

I walked up the tacky looking, fake cobblestone walkway, towards my mother's door. I gazed at the decorative Christmas wreath on her door, with the tiny smiling Jesus in the center. This was kind of an odd bit of decor, seeing as it was the middle of July at the time, but I payed that little thought. I reached out for the doorknob, and made my best attempt to turn it, and open the door, but that didn't work out so well. My mother had apparently locked the door today. She hadn't locked the door in over twenty years, so this was kind of an odd occurrence. Although a slight detriment in the whole process of getting into the house, a locked door shouldn't be too much of a problem. In my recently deceased state, I should be able to pass right through the door, like I did the ground only minutes earlier. I put my hands out in front of me, and pushed forward a bit. This did nothing. I stood a while in thought, and came to a conclusion. If high school physics had taught me anything, it was that if an object were to gain enough speed, it could easily pass right through a wooden door with a tacky little Jesus wreath. With that in mind, I walked to the edge of the lawn. I turned around, and began to run. I was running at full tilt when I got close to the door, and did everything but pass right through it. I slammed into the door, went flying backwards, and landed on the grass behind me. I closed my eyes and winced as I realized that although I was dead, my nervous system was fully intact. I opened my eyes, looked upwards, and saw an incredibly familiar face.

"Good afternoon Tommy boy," said Jared, an old friend of mine," How are you doing today?"

"Pretty good," I said," considering the circumstances."

"Circumstances?" Jared asked, with a perplexed look on his face," You mean what with you being unable to bust your way through that door and all?"

I got up to my feet, brushed myself off, and examined Jared in his current state. He was clad in his favourite Hawaiian shirt, decorated with bright yellow pineapples. He was in his brown khaki shorts, with his shiny gold watch on his wrist. He was a sort of pudgy fellow, and was quite poorly shaven, but despite all this, he was a good friend.

"Those weren't exactly the circumstances I was thinking of," I told him.

"Well then, what exactly are the circumstances?" he said, in his gruff sounding voice.

"I was talking about me being dead."

"Then how in the name of crap can I be talkin' to ya?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said," maybe you're dead too."

"Ahh, that'd make sense," he said," that must have been why the wife wouldn't pay any attention to me when I got home from work."

"Do you remember anything happening to you that might have landed you here?"

"I guess I shoulda' figured something was up when I had that head on collision with a semi."

"No kidding, eh?"

"Haha!," Jared bellowed," I guess that would make sense, eh?"

"Yeah, hey, I've got a question for you," I told Jared in an inquisitive voice," do you know how to walk through things yet?

"No, I can't say that I do."

I frowned a small bit, and turned to face the door. "That's just magical," I said," I wanted to go see how my mother's doing, I'm sure she's a bit broken up about this whole mess."

"Aww, isn't that cute," Jared laughed, and began to cough a bit," I dunno. I guess if you just, tried imagining yourself going through the door."

I stared at the door for a few minutes, pondering this idea. Jared had been correct about stranger things. Whether it was toothpaste ingredients, or the psychological habits of goldfish and rottweilers, he seemed to know a little about a lot. So, I figured I'd give it a try. I walked up to the door, and Jared followed after me. I raised my hands upwards, pushed lightly on the door, and imagined myself falling through it. I then fell right through the door, and stumbled forward a bit. I looked around the small entranceway of my mother's house.

There was still a closet to the right for shoes, jackets and keys. I walked forward, towards the stairway that led to my mother's bedroom. I looked to the right of me into the kitchen, where a flat mass of bread dough lay on the counter. This intrigued me quite a bit, seeing as she never left cooking unfinished and un-eaten. I walked into the kitchen, and remembered. As I looked at the pale beige counter top, I remembered how she so diligently cooked homemade bread, or cookies, or vareniki. I looked at the old, worn out linoleum, and remembered running around the kitchen as a child, playing twenty questions with her. I walked over to the old, chipped table, and saw her in her little seven chamber container, made of light green plastic. I remembered sitting at this table and playing Go Fish with my uncle when I was a little kid. I looked at my uncle's piggy bank on the counter, in the shape of a twenty dollar bill, and remembered talking about comic books with him, and listening to his infinite knowledge about the world. As I remembered all of this, I began to cry. I broke down, and cried, right there.

I couldn't control myself, and with all of these memories, I grieved for my uncles, and my mother, and for everyone I lost. In this whole after death experience, I hadn't seen anyone I knew, outside of my now recently deceased friend. I didn't know if I could see the living yet, and I didn't want to know. Being here again was too hard, because I knew that even if my mother was here, I wouldn't be able to look at her. I loved her too much for that. Even if I could be with her, her not knowing I was there would be far too much for me to bear, and I couldn't risk that. And what could I do if I were to try to bear that? Kill myself? With that thought, I realized what had happened to me. I was whimsical and somewhat humorous in my previous thoughts, but it had just sunk in. I was dead. I didn't know if I could be with her, and I didn't want to know. If I could say something to her, what would that do? We would cry, and I would leave, making this even more difficult for the both of us. So I cried. I cried for a few steady minutes, and then I felt a hand on my back.

Turned around, and looked at Jared, my eyes streaming with tears. "I don't think I can go see her," I told him," I'm not ready."

"All this is finally gettin' to ya, eh?" he said, smiling in a friendly, sympathetic way.

"Yeah," I told him," How about we go for a walk, and talk about nothing for a while?"

"Sounds like a plan," he said," let's hit the road.

The

End