The Other Side of Heaven Read online

  “Sort of.”

  “Well, I’m not the only one running around this town. Or the only one running from the light. It comes for you a lot. Just like you wanted to resolve with me, I needed to stay and resolve.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I had no plans to go through until Dad died. Then he yelled at me to cross over. And you know Dad, when he yells, we listen.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Tell me everyone is okay now.”

  “They are.”

  “Freddy? The last I looked he was using.”

  “It’s been tough on him, but he’s been clean a year now.”

  Jimmy seemed to sigh out in relief. “Peter? He was having marital problems over my death.”

  “They’re fine. He’s a grandfather now. Ashley had a baby.”

  “That’s cool. Debbie? Does she still go into her closet for hours and stare at the shrine she made for me?”

  “What?” I cocked back. “Debbie has a shrine for you in her closet?”

  Jimmy stared, then smiled. “No. I’m kidding.”

  That was it. That was what I needed. Not only to tell him I missed him, find out if he was alright, but for him to play some more practical jokes on me. He did. He got me. Then the room brightened.

  With little emotion, Jimmy said, “Ding. Ding. Resolution complete.” He pouted some.

  “I guess that’s my sign to go.” I stepped to him and we embraced one more time.

  “Don’t go. Don’t go yet. The light will come back….”

  “Jimmy, it won’t. This is the only return trip.”

  “I miss you all so much. Don’t you want to see Mom? Dad?”

  I looked at the light. It wasn’t as bright.

  “I’m being selfish,” he said.

  “You can be. I’m just grabbing every moment too.” Again, I looked at the light. “I have to go.”

  Jimmy kissed me on the cheek. “I love you. Please tell everyone I love and miss them.”

  “We all love you.” I stepped away, moving backwards into the light. It was thick and not so easy. Almost as if the light was fighting me.

  Then the light encompassed me, Jimmy faded. The bright light disappeared and it felt as if someone instantly pumped air into my lungs. It caused me to gasp, sit up and hit my head on the dryer.

  “Stop the call!” Ricardo yelled. “She’s back.”

  “You sure?” someone replied.

  “Yeah. She’s bleeding, but that’s not a ambulance trip. It can wait until she finishes processing,.” Ricardo was in my view, standing next to Brad.

  “Three minutes and twenty two seconds,” Brad said. “They were calling.”

  “You promised me you wouldn’t.”

  “I didn’t.” Brad held up his hand. “I knew you’d be back. Just an instinct. They weren’t so convinced.”

  Ricardo handed me a towel for my head. “Hold that. We’ll put some plastic over it when we rinse you then go get a suture.”

  “Thank you.” I took the towel. My hand trembled as I brought it to my head.

  “Sweetheart, you were dead,” Ricardo said. “I nearly had a heart attack. Brad told us what was happening. But it was hard to believe.”

  “Still is,” I said.

  Brad asked, “Are you okay? Did you …”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “I’m fine and I did. I’m overwhelmed right now. I want to call my family and tell them everything.”

  “As long as you’re okay,” Brad said.

  I nodded to let him know, aside from the head glitch, I was physically fine. But the truth was, I was more than that .For the first time in a long time, I felt completely at peace.

  21. Scott’s Journey

  One would think we were a Jewish family sitting in Shiva when the day came for the resolution. The second it struck midnight, me, my brother, sister, and nephew all sat in my living room, joined by a priest named Craig.

  We never left each other’s sight. Even if we went to the bathroom, someone was outside the door. It was both annoying and funny.

  “You alright in there?’

  “Yeah, I’m just going to the bathroom.”

  Fr. Craig was a cool guy. He liked his booze though, and then explained the booze and inability to resolve things was the reason he was on sabbatical from the church. He was hopeful that our resolution would be his. He was picked, like Natalie to find five people and he opted out.

  He had a hard time living with that decision.

  It was pretty cool to hear his death experience. It was one he swore he would share, but after sitting in that living room with us for six hours, he talked about it. How he was chaperoning a fishing trip during the spring and fell into the lake. He was dead for six hours, and medically they said the cold helped revive him. On the other side, his trip was brief. Unlike with Natalie, no souls rushed forward yelling, ‘Pick me. Pick me.”

  The man who seemed to sip steadily on a bourbon since the sun came up, slowed down and even smiled a little, when he received word that two of the named had gone, came back, and were happy and fine.

  Fr. Craig stared at his phone as he told us. “Their departures were slightly different. Both went to a place where the loved one died…”

  Upon hearing that, we all looked up to the ceiling knowing our mother died in the room above us.

  “And …” Fr. Craig continued. “The door to return opened up when they resolved. At least now we have some information.”

  There was a moment of silence where we absorbed what he was saying, one that was broken by the startling ring of my cell phone.

  “Scott!” my sister yelled at me.

  “You were supposed to turn it off,” my brother scolded.

  “What? I did.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Weird. Jacob, it’s your phone. You’re butt dialing me.”

  “No I’m not. My phone’s upstairs.”

  I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, then answered my phone. “Hello.”

  “Scottie. That actor you like is going to be on the Late Night Show.”

  My eyes widened, my heart sunk and I stood up, clutching that phone so tight I could have crushed it.

  “What?” My sister asked. “Who is it?’

  “Mom.”

  When I said that, my brother, sister, Jacob and Fr. Craig all stood up. Rushing forward, asking what I meant and that was when it happened. I felt like a celebrity with the paparazzi. Flashes of light blinded me. They increased in intensity until I was engulfed. Then they stopped, exposing an empty, grayish room.

  “Scottie?”

  I spun around to see my mother. My legs buckled and I cried out this aching sound as I charged for her.

  It was me. I was chosen, I won the afterlife lottery. Hugging my mother, I realized that the impossible occurred. I crossed over with my cell phone still in my hand. Or was it a mistake.

  My mother did call me.

  “Oh, honey.” She embraced me, pulled back, placed her hands on my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “You look so wonderful.”

  She did too. She looked exactly as I remembered. Her hair glowed some, it was really cool.

  “Do you know why it was me, Mom?” I asked. “Why I was picked.”

  “No, I don’t. Let’s not dwell on that. We’re visiting right?”

  “Right. Mom?” I lifted the phone. “How? Why? You called.”

  “It was the call I never made.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Walk with me Scott,” She grabbed my hands and we walked through the house to the back patio. “Before I died, I was going to call you. I meant to and tell you that message. But I never did. I always felt bad. Maybe you missed it.”

  “Mom, it didn’t matter that day. Our world stopped.” Then I looked around. “The patio. Mom? Was it our imagination or was the scent of roses you?”

  “Funny thing about crossing over. You don’t have to go right away. I stayed long enough to figure out how to give a sign.
And once I saw you all together, I knew you were gonna be just fine.”

  “We weren’t.”

  “Yes, you were.” She said assuredly.

  “Why was there never another sign?”

  “Well, it gets busy. There are so many people to see, visit, and there’s no time, so years fly by.”

  “It’s so good to be with you. See you … hold your hand. You know we love you and …. Oh.” I lifted my phone. “I wonder if this works.”

  “I don’t think you can make a call.”

  “Not a call. Pictures.”

  Not so surprisingly, the phone had power and I was able to pull up the pictures. We sat on the glider just off the patio and I showed her pictures I had taken. She played with my new phone and laughed at how advanced it was. I filled her in on everything, our lives, the changes in them. Current events, celebrity gossip, and even TV shows she would like. I even filled her in on how Lost ended. She wasn’t impressed.

  We talked, laughed, and shed emotional tears for a long time. It seemed to me as if I had been given extra time. I even worried that maybe I wasn’t going back. That worry was short lived, because the light appeared. It started as a speck and grew. Suddenly in was as big as the side of the house.

  It was time to go and I could do so freely. I was actually anxious to tell my family all about it. As I approached the white light, I could smell the roses, I hugged my mother once more, kissed her on the cheek, and clutched her hand as I stepped through. Looking over my shoulder, I watched as she faded.

  There was only a blank moment. Like a long blink. I opened my eyes to see Fr. Craig.

  “He’s back.” Fr. Craig said.

  Something hurt. My knee, I felt it as I moved and Fr. Craig helped me to sit up. I was on the floor.

  My brother Bob crouched before me. “How do you feel? Do you need an ambulance.”

  “Was I dead?”

  Bob whistled. “Oh, yeah, it was scary.”

  My sister held out her hand. “I’m still shaking.”

  “I cancelled the ambulance,” Jacob stepped closer. “I told them … hey, that’s weird.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You have the phone again,” Jacob said. “I thought it flew out of your hand when you fell.”

  Immediately, I jumped up, I swayed a little and my knee wanted to give out. “Please,” I whispered. “Please, please, please.”

  “Scott?” Fr. Craig called my name.

  Then so did my brother, sister and nephew. They all called me and I ignored them and sat on the couch with my phone.

  “Scott?” Jessie, my sister asked. “What are you doing?”

  “Please.” I swiped through my phone.

  “Please what?” She asked.

  “Please. Here. Yes. I think.” I found what I was looking for. “Here.”

  My phone videos. I pulled them up, grabbed the most recent and pressed play.

  The image was blurry, almost pixilated and translucent. Her voice sounded as if it came thought a computer. It had a weird tin sound with an echoing bounce. But it was my mother none the less.

  “Jessie, sweetie,” My mother spoke. “I need you to know …”

  Jessie screamed, not even hearing the rest of the message. In fact everyone screamed and grabbed for the phone.

  “How long is the video?” Bob asked.

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “But there’s a message for you all. Here.” I relinquished the phone. I had just spent time with my mother, they needed their moment as well before I could recount the experience to them.

  As I stepped away, Fr. Craig handed me water.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He stared at my family. “The gift.”

  “I’m sorry? The gift?”

  He shook his head. “Forget I said that. This is … unbelievable. A message from heaven.”

  “The whole thing, Fr. Craig, is unbelievable.”

  I sipped my water and watched as my family was overwhelmed with emotions watching what was on my phone. Like with the scent of the roses, they laughed and cried.

  I wasn’t certain how long we’d have the video. Would it disappear? Or would it be something we’d always have. I didn’t know the answers about the video, but I was certain, the experience, the ‘one more moment’ with our mother was something that would carry us a lifetime.

  22. Jenny’s Journey

  There wasn’t much of a notice given and I was glad for that. I wouldn’t want to have to wait weeks or even months for my time to come. Waiting would breed anxiousness and possibly fear. I wasn’t scared, at least when I made my decision.

  In order for me to have my moment with my son, my heart had to stop beating. To me, that was a huge risk, so I took precautions. I sat down and wrote letters to my children, husband and other family and friends. Letters that would say what I felt, how I felt about them, just on the chance I didn’t come back.

  Another decision I had come to, aside from going and writing the letters, was not to not be in the house when my children were. If I suddenly dropped, it was something they didn’t need to see. I wanted to be out of the home. I gave them an extra long and tight hug before school, and using my nervous energy, I cleaned the house and started dinner in the crock-pot.

  Arthur was my assurance and he arrived the night before. That was tough to explain to the kids, so I told them he didn’t have water at his house. The lines were down. They accepted that.

  After the kids left, the house was clean, I started my prepping of dinner. From the kitchen I could hear the television in the living room. It was on the station I usually watched. Arthur didn’t change the channel, he probably couldn’t find the remote.

  Or maybe he thought I wanted the show on.

  “Arthur?” I called to him. ‘You don’t need to watch that.” I continued chopping the last of the onions. My eyes burned and I tried not to rub them. “Arthur? You alright?”

  “I think he’s sleeping.”

  Stop.

  The knife dropped from my hand.

  “Did you just hear me?”

  I slowly lifted my head. No, it wasn’t happening. I was still cutting vegetables, there was no flashing lights, the television was playing. I could feel my heart beating. Surely if I died, it wouldn’t beat.

  “Mom?”

  Slowly I started to look back to the voice that came from behind me, half way through my turn, I saw Ben standing at my side.

  His eyes widened and he nearly stepped back. “You see me,” he said with shock. “You see me? Hear me?”

  I couldn’t speak. My body shot into a series of tremors and I thought I was having a seizure. My legs were weak and a shock of nervous vibes rippled in my gut and up my chest. I didn’t say a word, I reached out with my trembling hand. The second my fingertips hit the solid feel of his chest, I gasped out a near scream, grabbed hold of my child, and clutched him to me with all of my heart and soul.

  When I felt him against me, my arms wrapped tighter, and I just cried. I didn’t want to let go, I couldn’t speak, I had lost that ability. Groaning out with each sob, I clutched him and raised my eyes to the ceiling, mouthing the words, ‘Thank you.’

  Without moving, I absorbed the moment. A part of me needed to see him and I stepped from his embrace, touched his face, and looked into my son’s eyes. I needed to look at his face and see him well and healthy. Standing before me , he was everything I remembered of my child before the accident.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” I said. “Unless … am I dead?”

  “I … I don’t know. What are you talking about?”

  “I was supposed to get one more …” The smell of freshly cut onions seeped under my nose and I realized I wasn’t dead. Something else was going on. I was getting my chance but not how I expected. “I was supposed to get one more moment with you.”

  Ben smiled.

  Oh my God, how I missed that smile. It didn’t just light up a room, it lit up my soul.

&nb
sp; “Mom, I was the one who was supposed to get one more moment with you. Well, rather, a moment you can see and hear me.”

  I was trying to make sense of it while not losing a second of our moment. “What are you talking about. There was a woman who died. She came back and was told she had to pick …”

  “Five people to resolve to give peace.”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “People from all over reached out to her, telling her their stories in hopes she would pick them.”

  “Wait. An alive person?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How was that supposed to happen?”

  “They would die briefly.”

  Ben blinked. “With Dad, Sam and Luke, you took that chance.”

  “To see you.” I grabbed his hand. “I would take that chance.”

  “I got that all wrong,” Ben said. “I was out there.” He pointed to the window and walked to it. “Sam was in the yard, playing, I was watching him.” he glanced over his shoulder. “He’s funny when he gets in his own world. And all of the sudden, I heard these voices. Which never happens. And the voices were saying, ‘she’s coming, she’s gonna pick people.’ I didn’t understand exactly what they were saying, but I knew what it meant. Next thing I know I’m at the edge of the light. At first I’m thinking I’m being pulled through and then I see this woman is there. She’s different, real and all these souls are blasting her. That’s when it hit me, she was the one picking. So I asked before she disappeared.”

  “Ben, have you been stuck here?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting for one moment where you could hear me. Just one moment. I didn’t even need you to see me. Just... hear me and know … I knew. I knew you were there. I knew you held my hand, wiped my face, and never left my side. I knew you talked to me and stayed strong. I knew it and I couldn’t say a word. I tried. I tried. But I was trapped in that shell.”

  A weep slipped from my throat and I grabbed on to his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I am so sorry that you, every one was hurt. I am so sorry this happened.”

  “Oh my God, baby, no.” I pulled him to me and held him. “This wasn’t your fault. I hated seeing you suffer. I hated watching you fight so hard and …”