Coming Back

A near death encounter with Grandma. The MC is told it's not her time, but she gets a glimps of Zion.

 

The last thing I remember is pain. I was swimming, but that wasn’t it. Jerry likes to play rough though, and as he pounced on me, I lost my groove. Something in me snapped. My lungs burned, and then nothing.

            I’m lying on my back. No water sounds around me, and neither do I feel wet. Slowly, I open my eyes. The sky is a perfect azure, no clouds marring the blue expanse. I’m not lying on sand.

            A shadow passes over head, and I look into a face that is terribly familiar. “Grandma?” It’s terrible because she died when I was ten.

            “Hello, sweetie,” she smiles. She looks a lot younger than the eighty-five years she had behind her when she died. Her short brown hair is curled tight to her head, and she doesn’t stoop as she stands over me. She reaches a perfect hand out to me and I notice the conspicuous lack of arthritis as I take it carefully, then grip tighter as she helps me up.

            “Gran,” I hug her tightly, and though she is still a small woman, she grips me tightly in a return embrace. “I must be dreaming. You never looked like this when I knew you.”

            Smiling still, she shakes her head and opens her arms to enfold all of creation. “Guess where you are?”

            I look around. The grass is soft and springy, a brilliant Kelly green. The flowers are more than real, casting their light fragrance all around the meadow. The trees at the edge of the clearing are strong and brown, thick trunks planted firmly in the rich ground, branches reaching impossibly high, tipped in the most beautiful array of leaves I have ever seen. A deer leaps into the clearing, stopping to look at us, then bending its head to the grass.

A brown bear lumbers into the clearing, close to the deer. I lift my hands to wave at the animals, to scare the deer to safety, to distract the bear, but my grandmother holds me still. The bear waddles up to the deer and sniffs, rubbing against it like a kitten rubbing against its mother. The deer sniffs the bear and goes back to eating grass. My grandmother taps my shoulder and I turn.

On the other side of the meadow, over the trees, I can see mountains rising in the distance. On the mountain, there is a radiance that, once my eyes adjust to the change, I can see it is a huge city. It must be huge for me to see it so clearly. It is a walled city, with huge gates facing east, toward me. I frown.

“Zion?” I hesitate.

Grandma nods.

“Did I drown?”

She pats me comfortingly on the shoulder. “Not exactly.” I follow her to a large rock that sits under a tree and sit with her on it. “Your faith has brought you here, but it is not yet time for you to enter the city. You must go back.”

I cringe. I’ve heard of near drowning victims and the pain they have in their chests that almost never goes away completely. Complications of pneumonia, upper respiratory disorders, possible asthma developing, it all comes flooding into my mind and I feel my heart race. But then she touches my arm.

I see my family, my parents standing in a waiting room, clutching each other for support. My husband and children, worry on his face, my oldest with questions in her eyes, my youngest playing in the corner. Then Jerry, collapsed into a chair, head in hands, his body wracked with sobs. Gina and Ted stand on either side of him, both looking distraught. I know I have to go back.

“Gramma, can I ask you something before I go?”

She turns her head to the side, thinking, perhaps listening, then nods to me.

“What should I do when I get back? What is my purpose?”

Taking a deep breath, she pats my leg. “Sweetie, if we all knew that, what fun would it be trying to figure it out?” She c***s her head again, gives a little nod, and leans in close to my ear.

She whispers something, but just as she speaks, the most beautiful music I have ever heard flows down from the mountain, and the landscape around me begins to fade. For a moment, I believe she has told me my purpose, but as the brilliant light fades to the deepest darkness, so too does her final whispered message. I know it is buried in my mind, but that’s the fun of trying to figure it out.

Suddenly my peace is destroyed by a burning pain in my chest, and I heave and cough, spitting water everywhere. My first conscious feeling goes from pain to relief, as I hear the doctor sigh.

“She’s alive.”

Reviews

[SR Urie]

Hi Jen.
Great story! Flawless, insiteful, superb imagery and allegory. A near death experience that seems almost real. It makes me wonder if you've ever had one; from what I just read, most probably. Excellent work! Keep it up! BZ