Blam!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was hiding in a muddy ditch, the run-off water from the war-torn\nlandscape surrounding me was pouring over the top of my boots. I felt the cold\nwater running down my legs around my ankles, filling the void between my feet,\nmy socks, and the worn leather boots, one of the few possessions I had: boots,\nthe clothing on my back, and what was left of my self-esteem. The only things\nremaining from the long love affair with my beloved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A line of enemy soldiers was walking slowly on the road above me.\nI stayed deathly quiet hoping not to be discovered. To the solders, marching\nthe road in the twilight, I would be seen as one of the many corpses rolled off\nthe road, shot so they wouldn\u2019t interfere with the flow of the war machinery\nand troops moving to establish a new battle front. Some of my comrades rolled\ninto the ditch were still alive, groaning from mortal wounds, not a threat to\nthe enemy anymore. I was one of them, but alive enough to be a threat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the soldiers looked my way, something about how my body was\npositioned attracted her attention. She broke ranks; drawing her pistol, she\nwalked directly to me and stood over me. From my chest down position, I\nstraightened and defiantly confronted her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This was a take-no-prisoners war, no Geneva conventions, no rules,\njust unmitigated hate for another human being. Humanity was now God-less. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
She calmly raised her pistol, cocked the hammer, aimed directly at\nmy forehead and fired. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her pistol discharges: An awful blast ensued in front of me, causing\nthe bones in my face to vibrate and my teeth to chatter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ha, you missed me<\/em>, I thought, my body propelled\nbackward into the ditch already dead from the wound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I must have shifted in my sleep because my dream also changed\ncourse: They say the body takes an average of eight minutes to die after the\nlast breath. I always wanted to find that answer and what it was like to die.\nNo one came back from the dead to let me know. Now, I have the answer. It would\nbe good if I could tell others what dying was like, that would be my\ncontribution to the ultimate knowledge of the Universe. I had obviously committed\nsuicide by gun-shot. I thought about it: I could have used the meds, or cut\nmy arteries, I know how to cut, a remnant from my former life. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Angel nudged my dream-state: \u201cWell, it\u2019s done now. You have left\nthose who love you to grieve and sort it out, which is the downside that we\nspoke of many times.\u201d My Angel was very distressed over my sudden decision to\nlet go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAngel, I didn\u2019t want to give you, or anyone time to interfere\nwith my plans. If I was going to go, it had to be quick. I simply had to join my\nbeloved in the Universe. The longer I waited, the more difficult it would\nbecome to catch up with her.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n My poor Angel, after all those years waiting to help me cross the\nVail, I didn\u2019t give her time to show me an alternative. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI can fix this and make it just a bad dream.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n With Angel\u2019s words, I awoke with a start. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat am I doing?\u201d I cried out to no one. Angel rapidly retreated\nback into my subconscious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ***<\/p>\n\n\n\n Peg is gone and I can\u2019t get her back. I want to join her on her\njourney into the Universe, I want to be with her.<\/em> These are\nmy thoughts and the content of many dreams about taking my life. However, I\ncannot bring her back; taking my own life to be with her would rule out any\npossibility of my writing about her passing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Two months ago, Peg passed into the Universe and began her new\nJourney. Instead of a physical being, she is now comprised of pure energy,\nwhich contains the very essence of her soul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The date of her passing, Oct 5th<\/sup> 2020, will never leave\nmy memory. Now when I know the 5th<\/sup> of each month is coming, I\nautomatically slip into the condition of grieving for her. My grief causes\nadrenalin and cortisol to flood my body. Both hormones are designed to protect\nmy physical body from danger. Contrary to their purpose, the hormones wreak\nhavoc with my physical health. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Widower, a condition not exactly similar to widowhood. It is the\ndifference between men and women and must be treated as so. I hope my explanation\nof my journey into being a widower will enlighten many, especially men, who\nfind themselves in my position. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We had been married for fifty-two years. She was the love of my\nlife, and now I am without her trying to make sense of what my new life will be\nlike. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In the room where I write, every day I look out the window and see\na doe walking by \u2013 it seems the little doe appears at the times I need\nreassurance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Writing is the most important thing I can do to preserve my loved\none\u2019s memory and to keep my sanity. Nevertheless, I have entered a new world of\nvoluntary insanity, magical and irrational thinking, that if it weren\u2019t for\nbeing a grieving widower, I might be committed. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n I have a habit of going out of the house most nights, just before\ndarkness covers me with the peaceful still of the night. The quiet of the night\nis my time to communicate with the Universe. Now I also communicate with her\nsoul, sometimes in the form of that doe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I talk to the doe out loud just as I would if my loved one was still\nliving. My loved one is now living in a new form, one of the wonders of the\nUniverse. The doe stays quite still and looks directly at me. I receive my\nanswers in the form of a mysterious telepathy that only lovers in a long-term\nrelationship understand; a feeling, in place of an actual conversation or\nsimply a poignant glance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Universe now supplies me with many opportunities to\ncommunicate with Peg\u2019s soul. The doe is one example, other animals, found\nobjects from our past, even changes in the weather allow me to remain in\ncontact with her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Now she is gone, her soul is everywhere around me, I only need to\ntake a break from my grieving to receive her communications. It is true I will\nno longer be able to possess her physically, greatly adding to my distress at\nher passing. My ability to communicate with her soul is still as strong as it\never was when she was physically living; we would sit quietly in each other\u2019s presence\nand know intuitively what was on the other person\u2019s mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ***<\/p>\n\n\n\n I offer my story of Peg\u2019s passing into the Universe and my journey\nto find my way after her death, in the hopes you will see some parallels to\ncomfort you on your journey surviving the loss of your loved one. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Blam! I was hiding in a muddy ditch, the run-off water from the war-torn landscape surrounding me was pouring over the top of my boots. I felt the cold water running down my legs around my ankles, filling the void between my feet, my socks, and the worn leather boots, one of the few possessions […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":883,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/882"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=882"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/882\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":884,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/882\/revisions\/884"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/883"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=882"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=882"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=882"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}