The Other Side of Heaven (9 page)

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.

“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 …”

“No.” Ben shook his head. “It’s
okay. I was okay.”

My face was wet and I smeared my
hand against my cheek, pulling back to look at him. “I’m sorry too. Do you
forgive me?”

“For what?” he asked in shock.

“For anytime I wasn’t what you
needed or wasn’t there. For anytime, I forgot about you or made you feel less
important. Know that I love you. I love you so much.”

“Mom, I know.” He stared at me.
“I always knew. You are a
great
mom. Please know that. And I love you,
too.”

“I miss you Ben.”

“I know. I miss you guys, too.”

It was that moment, staring at my
son, hands clutched, that I realized, I never asked to resolve. I never asked
to go or be granted my request, Natalie approached me. Fate had thrown her my
way and she discovered me. But it wasn’t fate, it was on purpose and it wasn’t
my request that was granted, it was Ben’s.

He needed as much peace as I did.
His accident and abrupt departure from us, even before he had died, left us all
feeling unresolved. Even him.

And Ben had finally, in some way
found his resolution, I knew this when my entire kitchen disappeared and was enveloped
in a beautiful blinding light.

“I think it’s time to go,” Ben
said, then looked behind him at the light. “Yeah,” he smiled. “Yeah, it’s time
to go.”

“Ben?” I wept, not wanting to let
him go.

“It’s okay. It really is. I’m
ready now.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Please,
one more moment.”

“We had this. It’s more than most
people get.”

I felt him moving back and
reluctantly, I released his hand.

“Tell everyone I love them,” he
said. “I’ll be watching.”

My hand shot to my mouth, my eyes
locked on his and I didn’t even blink. I didn’t want to miss a millisecond of
my final moments with my child.

As the light engulfed him, Ben
looked away and to his left, as if someone was there. He laughed, looked back
at me and lifted his hand in a simple wave, before he faded into the light and
it was gone.

It was as if I were released from
a pulley. My body weakened and I dropped to my knees on my kitchen floor.
Trembling, I emotionally melted, sobbing my way through a roller coaster of
emotions. Happy I saw my son, sad that he was gone, angry that I lost him
again. Heartbroken that my child watched us grieve and he felt guilty for it.
Every emotion one imagined, I suffered through.

A part of me felt a little
robbed. It wasn’t long enough. Would it ever have been?

Arthur was silent when he came
into the kitchen, taking hold of my arm and helping me to my feet. I suppose he
was the one and only person that would understand my inner clash.

He was wise and soft spoken,
“There’s a bit of you that feels cheated, and are having a hard time looking at
this in a good light. It’s a gift, a positive thing. You’ll see it. I’ll help
you.”

I believe him. There was a reason
Arthur was in my life and being a grief coach was one of them. I just never
realized it before.

My husband was right. I said what
I needed to say to Ben, but there was so much more I wanted to tell him. I
heard his voice, felt him, but wanted to hear him again. I had my moment with
my child and I wanted more.

One moment truly wasn’t enough.
But I knew in time, I would accept that it had to be and that one moment would
carry me through the hard times ahead. Eventually it would bring a smile to my
face.

Eventually.

It was no surprise to anyone on
the team that I picked Travis. Not that his story was all that compelling on
paper, but not only hearing it, but learning he had tried before to get the
opportunity, I knew I had to select him.

Aside from his need to resolve
with his wife, he led both Fr. Craig and I to answers.

I liked Travis.

When I called to tell him he was
selected, he was having dinner with his daughter. He simply stated, “I kinda
felt I would be. Thank you.” And as he conveyed the news to his daughter,
Trish, I heard her say, “Daddy. No.”

It sent a worry shock to me. Why
wouldn’t she want him to go?

It had been the first time in
weeks that I was alone, so it felt weird to be driving to Travis’ home. I made
my way there, like everyone else, the day before. All five were going on the
same day.

I had connected with all of them.
I wanted to meet with them afterwards, and paid for airfare and tickets for all
of us to get together and talk. Something that had never been done.

When I arrived at Travis’ home,
he was at the computer and just finished making his twenty-third video message.

“I got a big family,” Travis
said. “I wanted to say something to each of them. Just in case.”

His daughter Trish was there and
she wasn’t happy with me.

“Please, change your mind,” she
pleaded.

“It’s not my choice if he goes.
He made that choice,” I told her.

“If my father doesn’t come back,
I hold you responsible.”

I didn’t know how to respond to
that. Travis did.

“Now, now Trish, if I don’t come
back it’s God’s will. Because the only other reason for me not to return is
because I don’t want to. Truth, I love your mother, but I have been with all of
you longer. I love my life. I’ll be back if given a choice.”

For some reason Trish didn’t look
convinced, and admittedly that worried me.

The next morning Travis made
breakfast so early the sun wasn’t even up. We were together, and alone. We
spoke about a lot of things. I opened up to him about my family.

By two in the afternoon we heard
that two of the team had made their journey. It was then Travis suggested we
head out.

“Let’s go to Bea’s diner and grab
a lunch special before they end for the day. Wouldn’t it be funny if I died or
dropped off in the middle of the diner.”

“No, really, it wouldn’t be.”

Travis laughed.

I offered to drive, but he wanted
to take his pick up. Plus, he knew how to get there. I would be lying if I said
I wasn’t worried at first about getting into the truck with him. What if his
moment came while driving?

Then I reasoned that I was with
him. If Travis ‘went’ while driving, that put me in danger. What were the odds
of me being in two deadly accidents in less than a month?

Slim.

With confidence I got in the
truck.

My thinking was all wrong.

It was a small stretch of
highway, a short cut to the next town where the infamous Bea’s Diner was
located. We were driving down that highway when Travis broke into a reminiscent
phase.

“Conway Twitty. Ever hear of
him?” he asked.

“Can’t say that I have.”

“You’re kidding. Your father
loved music and you never heard of him.”

“Who is he?”

“Good lord girl, only the
greatest country singer known.”

“I thought Johnny Cash was.”

“Okay, gonna educate you,” Travis
said and reached over, opening the glove compartment. A slew of cassette tapes
rolled out.

I laughed. “I didn’t even think
there were cassette tape players anymore.”

“Analog quality trumps digital.
Hand me the Conway one.”

I rummaged through the old tapes
finding the one for him and handing it over.

Sure enough he had a contraption
in his truck that connected to the radio and allowed for him to play old tapes.
After a few moments a song started playing.

“Only Make Believe,” he said.
“Was before me and Janice’s time, but heck, we loved it. It was our song.”

Opening my mind, not a country
music fan, I listened. It sounded familiar, but what made the love song more
endearing was the peaceful look on Travis’s face as he listened.

“Now this is good stuff,” he
said.

“Yeah it is.”

“Makes me think of her.”

When he said that, a switch
flipped in me. I wanted to tell him to pull over, but before I could get the
words out of my mouth, Travis froze and then his head dropped to the steering
wheel.

“Travis!” I screamed, knowing
full well there was nothing I could do. Reaching for the wheel, Conway Twitty
blasting on the radio, I wasn’t fast enough. The pickup truck careened across
the center line of the four lane road.

It jumped the small divider and
was on the other side of the highway before I could jolt the wheel.

It was too late.

I tried. I really tried to keep
my wits about me, but before I knew it, a screech of tires, and a Black SUV
plowed full speed into us.

The blue pickup truck flew up in
the air. As it did I felt the stingy ‘smack’ of the deployed air bag just
before we smashed down and rolled three or four times, before we spun upside
down like a top to a stop in the middle of the road.

Not once did I lose consciousness.

The air bag had softened and I
breathed heavily. I wasn’t hurt. I didn’t feel hurt.

Conway Twitty sang.

“Travis.”

I looked over.

His eyes were open, still
strapped in the belt, the blood poured from Travis’ head to the interior roof
of the truck’s cab.

“Travis?”

The song ended.

“No.” I reached for the seatbelt.
As I did, I saw it. My destiny. The hard hitting airbrakes caused me to look
through the broken windshield. When I did, I saw the tractor trailer barreling
our way. He was trying to stop.

I closed my eyes because I knew,
a collision was inevitable.

I was right.

I sailed.

At least at first I believed I
bodily sailed from the cab of that truck. Ejected outward until I spun and
landed seamless on the side of the road, on my feet like a well trained
gymnast.

It wasn’t my body that flew.

Standing on the side of the road,
I realized I was no longer in my body when I saw the demolished truck not fifty
feet from me.

Something was different.

Not only had I achieved lottery
winning odds by being in another deadly crash, but where was the light? The
bright flashes I experienced before? I watched as vehicles stopped, people
rushed to Travis’ truck, and oddly enough, Conway Twitty still played.

Feeling defeated, I turned and
that was when I saw Travis sitting on the side of the road.

We looked at each other.

“How about how this played out?”
Travis asked.

I walked over to him. “I’m
sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” I stood before
him.

“Looks to me like you got dragged
into my mess.”

“There’s a reason for it,” I said.

“Yeah, there’s a …” Travis titled
his head. “A big reason.”

Where was he looking?

Turning slightly, I looked behind
me. No longer was it our accident. No longer was it Travis’ truck smashed in
the middle of the road. It was a station wagon.

Mixed with the sound of Conway
Twitty were children crying.

Walking backwards, I watched it
unfold as I sat next to Travis in the grass.

“Oh God!” the truck driver
stumbled from his truck. “I didn’t see her. They crossed the center line.
Someone go get help.”

Go get help.

The days before cell phones,
before calling was quick and easy.

That truck driver pulled at the
cars doors to the station wagon, crying out in agony with each child he
removed.

The children. Travis’ children.

Then suddenly, standing by the
station wagon was a woman.

It took me a moment to realize
that woman was Travis’ wife. She stood above the bloodied body of a pregnant
woman.

“Someone help my kids!” She cried
out. “I didn’t mean this. I didn’t. Help them.”

“Janice.” Travis stood and called
her name. His voice cut through all the noise.

Janice turned and looked.

“The kids will be fine, Janice.
Even the baby.”

Janice stayed focused on Travis
and walked to him. “Travis? What are you doing here?” Her hand shot to her
mouth. “I was on my way home to you. Did you die? Am I dead?”

She didn’t look at me, or ask who
I was. I believed she didn’t even see me. So why was I there?

“Yes, you are.” He said. “And
…this isn’t how I thought it would be?”

“The babies,” Janice said. “How
bad are they?”

“They’ll be fine.” Travis stared
at her and took her hands.

“What are you doing here, Travis?
Who’s gonna take care of our kids?”

“I will, Janice. They all do
well. You don’t. I’m here to say goodbye to you. I need to know. Why were you
coming home?”

“I was up all night. I couldn’t
sleep. I knew leaving was a mistake,” She said. “I’m so sorry, Travis.”

“Me, too, I was calling you. I’m
so sorry. Please know that everything I ever told you was wrong. I always loved
you. I never wanted to lose you.”

“I know that I …” Janice paused.
“Travis.”

“Yes.”

“This happened a while ago,
didn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it did.”

At that point they were close and
Travis reached out to her, grabbing on to Janice and embracing her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I am
so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

She pulled back and titled her
head. “It’s been years.”

“Many.”

“Why ... how ….”

“I got the chance. I was given
the chance to have one more moment with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

I was confused. Why didn’t she
understand? She was supposed to know. Supposed to help Travis find his
resolution.

“It’s okay,” Travis said. “Just
know, I never stopped loving you.”

“The kids?’

“Oh, they’re great. We have
grandchildren now. Many. They’re amazing.”

Something wasn’t right. “Travis?”
I called out.

He looked at me.

The Janice asked. “What are you
looking at?”

“Do you see her?” Travis asked.

“Who?” Janice questioned.

Travis pointed.

Janice looked my way. “What am I
looking at.”

Why didn’t she see me?

“She doesn’t see you.” Travis
said.

“See who?” asked Janice.

“Something is wrong.” Said
Travis.

Upon his words, behind him and
Janice a great light appeared.

“No. No.” I rushed to Travis.
“Say goodbye, Travis. Give me your hand.” I held out.

Janice looked at the light. “I
guess we should go.”

“No,” Travis said. “Just you.”

“Travis?” Janice said with
question. “No.”

“Yeah. It’s not my time.” Travis
replied.

I extended my hand again.
“Travis. Now. Let’s go.”

“It’s been good seeing you,
Janice. I love you. But I need to go back to our kids.” He kissed her softly
and reached for my hand. His fingers slipped though my palm.

When they did, my soul dropped.

“Unfortunately, Travis,” Janice
said. “It is your time.”

“No!” I yelled.

‘Over here!” A voice cried in the
distance. “She’s alive!”

That caused me to look over my
shoulder. No longer was it the station wagon, but Travis’ truck and they were
pulling my body out.

With partially closed eyes,
Travis shook his head. “How about that? It was my time after all.”

“No. No.” I rushed to him. But I
ran right through him.

Janice held his hand. “Let’s go,
Travis.”

There was a painful look on
Travis’ face. “I didn’t expect this.”

“No!” I screamed. “This is not
fair!”

“You’re fading kiddo,” Travis
told me.

“What?” I looked down to my hand,
it was see-through.

“I guess this is goodbye,” he
said. “Tell my family about the videos and that I’m good. I’m very good.”

Travis and Janice didn’t walk
into the light. I didn’t get to see that. I was pulled away from them, watching
them fade from my view as I was sucked backwards.

Pulled away until they were no
longer in my sight.

I cried out a painful, ‘No’ and
found myself snapped back to my body, staring up to the face of a rescue worker
as I was pelted with a tremendous amount of pain .

“You’ll be all right, Ma’am, just
hold on.” he said. “Hold on.”

I knew physically, I’d be all
right. I closed my eyes and cried. I suppose the rescue worker believed I was
in pain, that my tears were over my injuries. But they weren’t, they were over
my loss and failure.