Death Becomes Me
For six days I’ve existed, here and light years away, in limbo, silently watching over my body—that mess of bones beneath a thin white blanket in the ICU—awaiting God’s sentence. Thanks to my family’s prayers and tireless devotion, He has granted me omniscience while professionals deliberate. The wait is over.
In scrubs and soft shoes, medical staff files into my room to commence my disincarnation. One by one, they silence each instrument until no beep, toot, or blip is heard. The clown concerto ends. My untethering ensues till every strap, line, and tube is withdrawn. At last, the breathing tube is pulled from my throat with a gurgling sound.
My final note is sung.
Fixated on my skin’s changing hue, my bravest compassionate loved-ones huddle bedside holding each other, horror-stricken at the sight of my body contorting to keep life from escaping it. Having adapted to this cracked vessel for over six decades, my soul pulsated through these veins with resilience, energizing and sustaining me regardless of how I abused it. Now, malnourished, my soul spins wildly, unable to bear the discomfort. It’s dizzying! Its fists pound my heart in rapid succession fighting to be released. It squeezes into my throat, trying to find an airway. It’s blocked! It partitions and attempts to escape through all my limbs at once, sending my arms and legs flailing! Still trapped, it reunites in my chest, pushing with excruciating force that arches my back and twists my spine! When the tugging and torture stop, flesh and bone fall away. My soul sheds that ragged loafer worn through the sole and crushed under life’s heavy foot. I emerge!
A spirit, finally free of material confines.
.