Sometimes death takes on different forms for different people. This is a tale about one of those times.
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. — Author Unknown
Excuse me a moment. Believe someone’s at the door.
(Hears knocking.) Hmmm, sounds like from upstairs but I don’t have an upstairs.
(Door sounds, squeakily opens.)
“Pam?” I ask. No response.
“Pam?” I ask again.
“I can’t come out but you can come in,” she intones.
“I hear your voice but can’t see you. If this is what I think it is, I can’t come up there now. It’s not yet my time,” I say.
Then slowly I hear a squeaky door closing.
“Pam?”, I ask. No response. Then again; nothing.
Then, faintly, as if In the distance, I hear a door close.
I stand there, frozen and jarred by the experience.
News Bulletin from the Interdimensional News Agency:
Did this really happen? Does life exist that close to another dimension? Does just a door we cannot see separate us from the hereafter? Who knows!
Perhaps in the Twilight Zone it does, but this is not the TZ. Or is it?
Perhaps it’s simply a page-turn at the chapter’s end in the multidimensional book of life and death.
“Pam? . . . Pam?”. . . Fade to black . . .
That was over a year ago and nothing like that has reoccurred. I think back on that evening from time to time wondering if it did, in fact, happen or was I just dreaming.
This particular evening was quiet and I found myself curled up in my easy chair with a good book. I had just come to a stopping point and started to head off to bed when I heard what I thought was a very squeaky door slowly opening. Thinking to myself it came from next door, I went off to bed.
“Joe?” the voice intoned in what was more like a low whisper.
“Joe?” the voice asked again.
I froze. I just stood there, saying and doing nothing.
“Who’s there?,” I asked, not really expecting a reply.
“I can’t come out but you can come in,” the voice replied softly.
Not again, I thought. This can’t be happening.
“Joe?,” said the voice again. “Please come up and join me. I miss you!” she said .
Playing along, I said “Who is this and what do you want?”
“It’s me, Pam. Please join me upstairs.”
“I don’t have an upstairs and you can’t be Pam. My wife died over a year ago,” I said.
“If this is some sort of sick, perverted joke, I don’t appreciate it!,” I stressed.
“It’s no joke, Joe,” the voice said softly. “It is me, Pam, and you do have an upstairs, just not like you know it to be.”
Then, for some strange reason, I turned around and looked back toward the living room and kitchen area. There was a cloud-like haze inside the apartment, almost like a cloud had seeped inside hugging just below the ceiling.
I heard what sounded like a door slowly rocking back and forth on its hinges. I stood there in awe of what I thought I saw.
What was this sight I was seeing. Could it be an actual cloud? No, that’s impossible, I thought. Another dimension?
Then the voice again, “Joe, come join me. I miss you.” This time the voice was much clearer and louder, but not yelling. “There’s a room that’s been made ready for you. It’s right next to mine. Won’t you please join us?” she asked.
“Us?” I said. “Who’s us,” I asked.
No answer. Silence. Utter stillness.
Yet, the “cloud” remained. Was it an entrance to another dimension? Was this voice talking and beckoning to me really Pam? I didn’t know. I just know that during this time the hairs on the back of my heard were still at attention and I was quite uneasy.
Meanwhile, that slow rhythmical squeaking of a door rocking back and forth on its hinges was the only sound I heard.
Until I didn’t. Then the door closed shut, rather startlingly.
“Pam? . . . Pam?” I called out.