If I could go back in time…..
What would I have done different?
You get the usual answers….
“Paid more attention in school”
“Been nicer to my brothers and sisters”
“Saved my money….invested”
“Gone to church every Sunday….volunteered”…..and so on it goes.
I’m trying to picture my last couple of minutes on this earth.
My breath is shallow…..My heart is slowing down…..The edges of my vision are creeping in….
There is no pain anymore.
I know that everything is shutting down.
I am scared….
I am terrified…..
When it comes down to it….my faith has left me.
I have no idea what’s fixing to happen….
I’ve never bought into the idea of begging forgiveness in your last moments.
That you can be saved at the last second…..
I’ve always believed that a man can only go to the well so many times before the water is all gone.
Now…I’m dying, and I don’t know what to do.
All those years of going to church….
All the different churches, religions and revivals I have explored in my quest for the truth…..
All the hours I have spent reading the Bible, the Quran, the Book of Mormon and numerous Buddhists and Chinese philosophical tomes…..
I can’t remember a single thing now that I am in the clutches of death
I don’t know what to do.
My breath is coming in faster gasps now.
My fingers are claws in the bed sheets….
I can’t see any more….
”What are you doing?” asks my Mom.
“I’m pretending to be dead” I say, staring into space.
“Well, after you die will you please clean up this room for me?” She asks, looking around my dungeon.
With a sense of awe I say “I think I can see heaven”
My mom looks up at the spot on the ceiling that my eyes are fixed on then looks back down at my dying body.
As she turns and starts out of my room, she says over her shoulder “If you don’t get this room clean, you’ll definitely be meeting Jesus soon I promise you”
She flicks on my bedroom light as she passes out my door….
My eye-sight is returning now….
I can see the light shining down….I can feel it warming my face.
I open my eyes slowly, ready to behold Jesus and his angels welcoming me home.
But all I see is our cat Tom, sitting beside me on the bed…his face less than 2” from my face…staring at me.
Tom steps over my face to the other side of the pillow and curls up next to my head….purring and staring.
“You’re a dumb cat” I say.
Tom is taking a cat bath now. He is no longer concerned with my death.
I stand up from my bed and look out my prison window.
I see my dog Toby lying below in the green grass.
He’s on his back……his head kicked off at a weird angle….his nards poking up for God and everybody.
“Stupid dog” I say as I tap on the glass of the window.
Toby jumps a little, then rolls over onto his belly focusing on my widow. He pops his gums and tongue in a ‘yuck’ just waking up way.
He stares at me……I stare back
I make a throat cutting gesture, and a gun going off next to my head gesture…..never taking my malevolent stare from him.
Toby yawns widely, ‘yucks’ his tongue again and rolls back over into his nard tanning position.
He gives a little stretch, then he goes back to sleep.
It’s his fault I’m grounded.
And he doesn’t even care…..
“Todaayy” my Moms lilting voice calls from the kitchen.
Tom is on my dresser now, staring at Jerome my goldfish.
Jerome is staring back…..
I bend over and pick up some socks….smelling them to see if they’re dirty.
I fall to the carpet…..death is coming again.
Tom and Jerome are staring at my lifeless body.
I can see Toby at my window looking in at me, his head cocked to one side, tongue lolling.
My Mom finds me near death again and introduces me to Jesus.
2 thoughts on “Lame Story #2: Grounded”
So, you have met Jesus. Was he a cool Dude? I always get the impression he would be so rad to hang out with, you know with Bob Marley, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, and Janis.
Perhaps your animals were teaching you something. I am convinced my little black cat, Wicca, is always happy because she does her cat yoga each day. She lays upside quite a bit, more than any other animal I have had. So, I am going to try and lay upside down, with my head hanging off the couch/bed, and I think the world will look so much better. I will probably end up in the hospital: blood goes to my head, I slide off the bed/couch, and crack my head on the floor. This could only lead to morphine, which we all know is good.
Peace & Love