So, I’m not a big believer in all things supernatural…okay, let me start again. It’s the new year, and I’m trying to be as honest as possible. I’ll confess right now: I DO believe in the supernatural. If you knew my family, you’d understand why. More on that later.
The reason I tell you this is because something disturbing happened to my sister’s grandson a few weeks ago. His name is Monk – not really, and not for any of the reasons you may think. He’s about 9 years old and a bright kid, good natured, and adored by his Nana (my sister).
Anyway, Monk was playing football at recess and things got rough and he fell and hit his head. The teachers thought he just been shaken up, so they didn’t pay much attention. Later that day, he fell asleep, woke up, and then vomited. The teachers sent him home at the end of the day (that’s a whole OTHER blog post!). When his mom saw him later that night, he was sleepy, still vomiting, but now screaming that his head hurt.
They rushed him to the hospital where it was discovered he had a brain bleed. They found this out when he became completely unresponsive during a CT scan. They med-flighted him to a trauma center where he underwent emergency surgery. It was touch and go for a bit, but he turned out okay. No lingering effects, the worst thing that happened is that he can’t play sports for one year. A fair trade off, I’d say.
But that’s not what’s strange about all this.
Last weekend, Monk visited my sister and she told him how much he had scared her with this accident. His response made all the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
He said, “Don’t worry, Nana. When I was in the hospital, I was ready to go to heaven, but there was an Indian Chief waiting for me and he said it wasn’t my turn. I had my ticket, but he took it away and tore it in half and said I had to go back home because I wasn’t ready yet. So I had to come back.”
My sister (whom I will write about in depth at a later time) has always had a little special ‘something.’ She’s very intuitive (among other things). It didn’t shock her at all that her grandson told her that. She was surprised, but mostly relieved.
I, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. All the usual things went through my mind. Is there an afterlife? A Monk AND an Indian Chief both say so. Are all those near-death experiences we hear about true?
My friend said it quite astutely when I was hashing this out with her. She said, “It’s interesting that we are able to translate the experience of dying into something familiar to us. Your great-nephew saw an Indian Chief. And he had a ticket to get in. What do other people see?”
That shocked me all over again. First, no one ever said we needed a ticket, and second, I always thought we’d see St. Peter or someone in white, flowing robes. Do we get to choose? If so, I want it to be exotic, like a Shaolin monk, or maybe one of those glittery Bollywood dancers, or how about an Aztec warrior! How cool would that be?
And if it can’t be that exotic (because maybe there are rules), I’d settle for Tom Brady, wearing all of his very sparkly Superbowl rings.
I could get into that. Now I just have to figure out where I get one of those tickets.