Tiny Stories: One Last Thing Before I Go

Popular belief has it that the universe is comprised of atoms. In reality, the universe is actually made up of…

They gather at my wake, my family and friends do, and I am surprised to find they are not alone. For in the crowd of mournful faces I spy the many acquaintances I have made along the way, long lost playmates from my childhood, as well as the beautiful women who I recognize immediately as the pretty girls I loved in my youth, each with children not much younger than we were when we courted.

Each of the assembled grievers tells a story, most of which I remember fondly and some I have forgotten with age, stories that make me laugh at how foolish I had been when I was at my most serious and some touching enough to make the eye water at the perceived kindnesses I bestowed upon others without even being aware.

And when the time for remembrances both affectionate and painful has passed, my loved ones—and yes, even the acquaintances are loved now—raise a parting glass to wish me safe passage on my unearthly travels to where I do not know and as I feel myself being gently pulled away from this realm, I swim against the current of my final destiny and pass through each body gathered in this place to leave a personalized vivid memory in an effort to ensure I am not forgotten.

29 responses to “Tiny Stories: One Last Thing Before I Go

  1. The saddest part of life is when the person who gave you the best memories becomes a memory. When I lost my dad… I can’t even begin to describe the unbearable heartbreak that devoured me. I couldn’t barely eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think straight… I just couldn’t function anymore…and I never stopped to think how my passing would affect the people I leave behind. So insightful and sad but kind of beautiful too!

    Liked by 2 people

    • I’m 54 and I lost Dad over two years ago. It was my first experience of deep grief. So I understand exactly what you mean. Thank God for my positive outlook and tendency to accept what is. Its hard to move on from grief. My mam isn’t there yet.

      Liked by 2 people

    • Cuca, I am so very sorry for your loss and I understand it all too well. I lost my wife and daughter a while back and they say that time heals all wounds and that is a flat-out lie because I miss them more now than ever and their absence still hurts. Cheers for the read and for sharing a bit of your story.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Such a powerful reflective piece. Hate it when people think it’s irrelevant when you talk about the person you miss the most, who you won’t ever get to see again. Especially since one day it will be you that people will be talking about. Short but sweet and I hope it’s true because it’s what I want to do when it’s my time.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I bring my wife and daughter up in conversation repeatedly and I’m sure that people are sick to the back teeth of hearing me talk about them, but I don’t care. They’re still as real and important to me as when they were alive. Those that can’t deal with that fact can find someone else to talk to. I make no apologies in that regard and neither should you. Cheers for the read and for your comment, Peri!

      Liked by 2 people

  3. I’ve had a Near Death Experience. It was blissful, peaceful, and extremely fulfilling. I was at the beach sunbathing when it happened. I was not under the influence of any drugs or alcohol. My heart stopped when I dozed off. I didn’t feel fear or any terror. I was very present and surrendering to the entire experience. I was not in any pain. It all happened very fast actually. It was such a peaceful experience. I only hope that when it happens again for the final time that it will be as pleasant. Great story as always, Rhyan!

    Liked by 2 people

    • This is similar to a news article I read some years ago about a middle-aged woman who went to the theater, saw a movie she enjoyed, got up to leave, and the next thing she knew there were paramedics bent over her in the act of resuscitating her. When she found out she had died, she was furious that they brought her back to life. Her death was peaceful and now she had no idea if her next death would be as calm or would she suffer from an accident, an act of violence, or some debilitating disease.

      Wishing someone a “peaceful next death” may come off as odd, so allow me to wish you a long and fruitful, instead, Suranne. Cheers for the read and sharing.

      Liked by 2 people

  4. If you think of us as magnets with our constant charge spiralling around our DNA, then when we are on low energy output through sleep or death then the electromagnetic (our body) switches off and no longer holds the consciousness. It can then move freely in the aura of the earth’s electric magnetic charge. I’ve experienced this and it also explains some of the predictive dreams I’ve had.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Interesting that you bring this up because I read somewhere that neuroscientists believe that (let’s call them out-of-body experiences) have to do with neural processes going haywire in people who come close to death (heart attack survivors like yours truly) where there’s a lack of oxygen to the brain which releases certain neurochemicals triggered by trauma that interferes with the sensory functions that support our usual feelings of embodiment and people’s recollections of being outside their body could be a form of hallucination or false memory, as they try to make sense of their experiences.

      Cheers for the read and observation, Grey!

      Liked by 1 person

  5. You’ve given a new meaning to ‘making one’s presence felt’. Imagine tapping into the living and leaving them with specific memories. I’d probably just leave them shocked and haunted with something they wouldn’t want to remember. And why are people only nice to you after you’re dead? What a waste! 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • The answer to your question is a simple one: it isn’t always easy to be nice to people (ask anyone who knows me and they’ll clue you in on the struggle to show me kindness) just as it isn’t easy to tell people how you feel about them. After they’re gone, you can finally open the release valve on all the things you’ve ever wanted to say without repercussion or push-back. But I do agree, it is a waste and a shame, especially when so many people fall victim to despair and take their own lives without realizing just how special and important they were to those around them.

      But I digress.

      Cheers for the read and comment, you wonderful person, you (see? I can do it when I want to…just don’t expect it too much, my reserves are limited).

      Liked by 2 people

  6. Excellent!! I really like this one, the flow and the tone were spot on, I could feel the departure of sadness in his voice. I also like the relatability, I feel as if you captured the perfect thought of what we al think about before we ascend.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Beautifully written, Rhyan. I don’t really know what else to say other than I hope people remember me in a kindly way when all is said and done. And I agree–the time to tell folks how we feel is when they can still appreciate it. So, let it be known I appreciate you, your wisdom and wit and kindness. Thanks for being a stand-up dude, and for sharing this wonderful piece with us. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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