It's Ok To Die

Back in September of 1993, my Uncle was having trouble swallowing. He didn't tell anyone he was having problems with his throat and that sometimes he would cough up blood.

One day we caught him coughing up blood and tried to convince him to see a doctor. After a few episodes of coughing up blood and becoming frightfully thin, we convinced him to see a doctor.

After numerous tests and hospital stays it was determined that he was suffering from Esophageal Cancer. My Uncle did not tell us what his diagnosis was, nor did he tell us that he would not recover from the Cancer. He led us to believe he had stomach ulcers.

My Aunt, Uncle and I were very close. We spent a lot of time together. And when it came to my Uncle getting medical treatments, I went with them.

My Uncle received radiation therapy and numerous medications to help him deal with the pain from this terrible disease. All the while we didn't know how seriously ill he was.

After suffering with Esophageal Cancer for about a year and a half, my Uncle became seriously ill and had to be hospitalized.

At the Hospital my Aunt cornered the Doctor and demanded to know what was really wrong with her Husband. The doctor in a cold and unfeeling manner blurted out "He has an un- curable Cancer and he will probably not live more than 2 weeks at the rate he is going!" The doctor turned and walked out of the conference room leaving us standing there in shock.

We gathered our composure and went back to my Uncle's room to sit and talk. He could barely speak and said that he was feeling better and wanted to go home. We knew he wasn't as well as he pretended and said that he needed the rest and that he should enjoy being waited on hand and foot at the hospital.

I then made a stupid joke that made all of us laugh, but made my Uncle cough. When he coughed he coughed up a little blood and my Aunt became upset and left the room in tears.

My Uncle turned to me and said that he knew he was dying and he was scared, then he started crying and said he didn't want my Aunt to know what was really wrong and he apologized for being so sick. He made me promise to take care of her when he passed. I promised I would be there for her. He smiled and thanked me. I hugged my Uncle and we both cried together for what seemed like forever. It took a while to gain our composure and wipe away the tears. I told my Uncle that it was okay to be scared to die, and that his mother would be waiting for him when he passed. He smiled and told me that he loved me and begged me to convince the doctors to let him go home that weekend.

It took a couple of days to convince the doctors to let him go home and be with his family, and we succeeded in getting him home by the following weekend.

Now here's the weird part!

At our house, my room is on the second floor near the Den that has a door that leads to a rear porch. Since it was Summer, I had opened the door and locked the screen door to enjoy some of the fresh breezes that would come through the screen door. I was in my room on my computer chatting with a friend, when I felt a really cool breeze brush across my bare feet. As I was typing, I caught a glimpse of a woman standing at my bedroom door from the corner of my eye. I turned to see who was standing in the doorway and there was no one there. I got up and went from room to room to see who else was in the house. Mind you I was the only one home at the time, and thought that maybe I didn't lock the second floor door.

I went and checked the screen door and it was still locked. I laughed at myself for being so silly and went back to my room to finish the chat I was having with my friend. I must have been chatting for about 10 minutes when I again felt the same cool breeze go across my bare feet. I turned around to see the same woman I had seen earlier, this time she was still standing there. I looked at her and asked her if I could help her. She stood there motionless for a few moments and spoke. She said, "You know me!" She was wearing a very pretty Lilac dress, her hair was very nicely styled, her make-up was light, but perfect, she had the warmest smile I have ever seen. She again said, "You know me, I'm Kenny's Mother!"

I was startled because my Uncle's name was Kenny and I knew that his mother had passed some 15 years ago. I had only met her once before she passed away. I froze and couldn't say a word. She smiled at me and said, "Please tell my Son I am waiting for him!" I still couldn't say anything, it was like my mouth was glued shut. My body felt suddenly heavy and I couldn't move. She looked at me and said "Tell my Son not to be scared, I am waiting for him!" I looked down for just a moment and all the sudden she was gone from the doorway.

I was shaking uncontrollably and could barely lift the telephone to call my Aunt. At first I dialed the wrong number and apologized half in tears. I dialed my Aunt's number and when she answered I started talking trying to get everything out all at once. She told me I was rambling and to calm down. I took a deep breath and very quickly told her what had just happened. My Aunt told me to hang up the telephone, lock the doors and go outside, she would be right over to pick me up.

I threw the telephone on my bed and ran to the rear door closed and locked it. I grabbed my shoes and ran down the stairs and out of the front door slamming it on my way out. By the time I got to the corner of the block, my Aunt pulled up. I jumped into the car and started telling her everything that happened as we drove to her house.

When we walked into her livingroom, she told me to sit down and try to get myself together. As I looked at her standing in front of me, I noticed a photograph on the ledge above the fireplace behind her. All I could do was point. She turned around and asked me what I was pointing at, I told her that the woman that was in my house was the same woman that was in the photograph. She looked at me in disbelief and laughed. I told her what she looked like and what she was wearing when I saw her. My Aunt suddenly became silent and started crying.

I didn't know I would upset her, and asked her why she was crying. She said the woman in the photograph was Kenny's (my Uncle), Mother and that she was buried in the Lilac dress I described. She told me that I was too young to remember his Mother and there was no way I could possibly know what she was dressed in because I was not at the Funeral.

My Aunt told me that she had someone fix her hair special because it was very long and beautiful and no one at the funeral home knew how to style it. She also said that my Uncle's Mother never wore make-up, but the people at the funeral home put a little make-up on her for the viewing because she was so pale.

We both sat there in silence for a few moments. Then my Aunt stood up and told me that I should go and tell Kenny (my Uncle) what had happened and maybe he would understand.

I went to my Uncle's room and sat down. I told him that I loved him and didn't want to upset him, but I had a message that we thought he should hear. I told him what had happened, he smiled at me and said "Thank You.. but I already know she visited you. She told me the same thing!" My Aunt, my Uncle and I sat there and cried for a bit, and then talked about some of the good times we all had together he hugged us, laid back and quietly passed away.

Two days after the Funeral, as I was in my room thinking about the whole thing, I said out loud "Kenny, I hope you are with your Mother and I hope you are happy and have no pain. Suddenly I heard a voice say, "I am with my Mom.. and I am very happy.. Thank You.. and I love you!" Suddenly the telephone rang, it was my Aunt, she was crying and said that she could have sworn she heard my Uncle's voice tell her he was with his Mother, he was very happy, Thank You and I love you!" I told her I had just heard the same thing.

We talked about Kenny and his Mother, and comforted each other in the fact that we knew Kenny was with his Mother and was happy.

Since that day, I have not heard from my Uncle or his Mother, but I know they are both together and they are both happy.

My family still thinks my Aunt and I are crazy. My Grandmother told me she believed us because she went through something similar when her father passed away. But then.. that's another story!