The Free Radical

(Author narration with background music: Just In from Nowhere by EJ Gold from his album Blue Smoke)

“All that dies… is death.”

Ah, from the mouths of babes! Cameron had been the first up– as usual– and had quietly crept into her room– the ‘gloom room.’ He’d awoken his Grammy– who wasn’t really sleeping– to deliver his earnest message. But, as is often the case with 5-year-olds, he hadn’t gotten the message quite right… but something of the gist of it still shined through his glittering, youthful eyes. It was meant to be a comfort.

All of their visitations– or intrusions, as Grammy regarded them– were meant to be a comfort. They were not. Not hardly. Cammy she could forgive; he was only five. But the rest of them… Why did they feel so compelled to fill her head with nonsense? As if dying was a thinking process… and you had to work it out just right in your head… or else the Angel of Death would politely tap you with its bony finger and solemnly say “You’re doing it wrong.”

How hard could it be? Really? Every damn person who had ever lived throughout the ages had done it; no problem. Falling off a log should be a mite harder than dying; it should be the easiest thing in the world– for the one doing the dying… but for everyone else… it seemed they had some serious problems with it.

The worst had been her nephew, the OR nurse. He had come to tell her tales of NDE’s. “First you’ll leave your body… and maybe hover above it for awhile. You’ll probably be greeted by long-lost loved ones… who will take you into a grand tunnel of light…” Why don’t you just draw me a fucking map? Grammy thought to herself. She would never use the f-word out loud, but these days it was a frequent visitor to her private thoughts. Besides, everyone was convinced that she couldn’t talk anymore. The truth was she’d just run out of salient things to say. Only Cammy knew that she could still talk… mainly because conversations with 5-year-olds were all that made any sense anymore.

“Who is the message from, dear?” she’d asked Cameron that morning.

The little boy had shrugged before answering “A girl… about my age. I think her name is Rose.”

Well, that was interesting. Grammy’s name was Rose, but Cameron probably didn’t know that. He only knew her as ‘Grammy.’ She was curious. “And where did you meet this little girl named Rose?”

“She comes into my dreams sometimes.”

Fascinating!

Now, as the door clicked shut behind the last intruder come to pay their respects, Grammy Rose was left in the silence and the gloom. There was only the sound of her own laboured breathing; even her troubled and profane thoughts had trickled to a whisper in the back of her head. What was left? Nothing, just the dying.

This was it. Grammy closed her eyes with final purpose. Perhaps she would manage to fall asleep once more– this last time– and just drift away. It was true; she slept. Deep into her body she nestled with the measured breaths of one purposefully striding toward a new infinity. She didn’t wake up when Cameron crawled in beside her… and placed his tiny hand on her chest, above her heart.

Perhaps it was nothing more than the heat from his touch. Or perhaps it was the power of true innocence contacting her there, but Grammy Rose was drawn into her own heart. It was the only proper place to be… at a time like this.

And there, she fell into death.

It wasn’t like a real falling– just like falling in love doesn’t involve any real falling. But oh, it was so real!

She was moving into herself in a way that just didn’t seem possible while she was still alive. In the dying process, she was becoming more and more herself… embraced by memories long forgotten. She suddenly recalled Cammy’s message and thought that maybe now she understood…

“All that dies at death is death itself.” The proper message had been spoken by the little girl herself. She was here, in her heart. Grammy Rose met her own innocence. She hardly recognized herself.

“I see what you mean,” she answered easily.

The little girl nodded. “Here it’s all eternal life. There is no death.”

“Tell that to the ones who come to collect the body!” They both giggled. “It’s only real to them,” mused Grammy more seriously. “Such fuss and nonsense… and death is only real to the living.” Grammy shook her head and laughed. It doesn’t exist!

The little girl took her aged counterpart in hand and said “We’re together now. Should we move on?”

Grammy beamed a smile down upon her own innocence, this lovely child she once was, and answered “Of course. If I can’t trust you…” The thought completed itself. “Let’s go.”

Hand-in-hand they turned to a doorway that slowly burst open before them. Beyond the threshold it was indescribable. A place like this had no relation whatsoever to the ‘gloom room.’ Everything about this infinite space within her own heart, hand-in-hand with her own innocence, spoke–no felt– of a living eternity. It was just so alive! So inviting…

“This is the rest of you– of us,” said her innocence. “Our treasure. This is your soul… our home.”

“My god!” gasped Grammy Rose.

“Yup. That too.”