First thing I remember is traveling through a dark tunnel that seemed it would go on for eternity. The darkness was so heavy it was like tar, like a void, complete lack of creativity; the Great Nothing in Never Ending Story, a space of indifference. Finally the dark tunnel ended and I was floating over my body. Looking back, that tunnel may have represented the space between awareness of this life and the life to come. I could see all dimensions of my body.
I looked like someone struggling for their life. I felt empathy for my body, pale with tubes and medical equipment. I felt so free of the concept of human gravity. I saw, again in every angle, my family members gathered around crying. I was hyper-aware of pain. I related to their pain more than to any shred of hope. It was like a group of people trying to make sense of what had become of me, of what to do. I was especially aware of my mother’s pain.
At some point, I believe my maternal grandmother, deceased for years, was present along with a Beaming Light I recognize as Jesus stating, ‘It is not your time yet. You have other lives to touch. Go back home!’ With that I was shot back into my body with an indescribable force.
At that time, I began to wake a bit and show signs that I would live.