At the age of 8, my brother and I underwent elective tonsillectomies. Upon having tonsils removed, I was sent to the post-operation room. At some point immediately following the surgery, I began to hemorrhage. I remember hearing panicked voices all around me. There was urgency in their voices and then the sensation of being moved. I was quickly being wheeled down the hall.
I must have been out of my body because I vividly recall being raced down the hall and my right arm falling off the bed as we went through a doorway. My right arm hit the swinging door and a nurse shoved my arm back at my side. There was no pain. I assume I was out of my body because, otherwise, I could not have watched this play out. It was as if I were viewing my body from around my head and above my body.
The next memory is being pulled from the bed and back onto the operating table. There was bright light that was getting bigger and brighter. I could hear those voices in the room becoming distant. The light felt fun and interesting, like the feeling you get as a child when you arrive at the playground and headed to play.
Next, I was at the top of an assembly, similar to an arena. There stood the choir of angels. I was so very excited. The sound was loud and beautiful. I can still hear it in my head, though it cannot be described with words in my vocabulary. The music was like incredible streams of notes and chords that cannot be heard by the human ear. The appearance of the angels was hard to describe because they barely had shape to them and their bodies did not look like human bodies. There was a very vague line that defined their substance, almost like pillars of energy contained by a thin line of light. I don’t recall distinguishing features like noses, hair, or anything else like what humans have. However, the angelic mouths were soft o’s as they emitted beautiful music. Their eyes had no definitive description of color but they did looked identical to each other. Their eyes all gazed at the center of this stage where this bright light shined. This was GOD. The choir lined left to right and for as far as the eye could see.
I remember someone else to my right, a guide perhaps? It was male. I say this based on the feeling and understanding that it was male. I recall being extremely excited and in awe. I said something to the effect of, ‘Do I get to sing too?’ and the guide saying, ‘Oh, no. You cannot sing with them.’ I said, ‘Their eyes! Look at their eyes!’ I seemed to be trying to get their attention, but the guide lovingly said, ‘Yes. They NEVER take their eyes off HIM.’ ‘Never?’ I asked. ‘Never’ he replied.
I remember being engulfed in feelings of happiness, belonging, and love. Pure love. There was nothing else to really SEE. Everything there was a transparent golden, white light. Even now when thinking about it, my heart feels so full with love and joy that it could burst.
The next thing I recall was waking up, vomiting the blood that had gone into my stomach. My guess is that my experience transpired when they rushed me back to the emergency room to stop the hemorrhaging.
Another thing I feel I must add is this. Growing up, my Dad had a picture of his mother on the dresser. I would get so frustrated and confused, almost to the point of visceral illness, when they would insist that she died before I was born. I would look at her picture and argue with them, saying I KNEW HER! I HAVE MET HER! SHE IS FAMILIAR TO ME! I refused to believe that I had never known her. It wasn’t until I saw her death certificate as a teen that I finally believed that she died before I was born. I do NOT recall meeting her at any point in my life or as part of a dream or NDE, but to this DAY I promise to you that I have met her! I remember her face and eyes. I know what her face looks like when she laughed and spoke. I could tell you how her dress swayed when she walked or how her embraces, hugs, and hands felt. And I can tell you how much she loves me and how I delight her. BUT, she died before I was born. Isn’t that strange? She’s the only person I have this type of experience with.