How in the world?

The number one thought on my mind was, "How in the world am I going to make it to the end of life after having my heart r-i-p-p-e-d o-u-t? It's horrendous beyond belief, but it just happened. It did happen. It's real. And it is so, so final—and so, so irreversible. I don't know if I can really live."

After returning to work, I remember going through the motions, but with not much zest for life. Ever so slowly, I learned the lesson of parallel worlds. Two worlds do exist with life in them. I continued to walk in the park, continued to pray, "My father who is in heaven," continued to realize that "in my father's compound are many houses," continued to say "I'll catch up to you soon," and added a new utterance, "Thank you, father, for the safekeeping of my precious son."

Talking to the dead is not something that I have ever done before. I did find it necessary to do, however, because there were some matters left untended. I had to try to make sure that a message was heard. I had to apologize for all my wrong moves. I had to relate all the plans that I had wanted to see him complete. The next life is such "an undiscovered territory," as Shakespeare put it, that it leads you to do things that might not be right or accurate, but on the outside chance that they are, you do it. I don't know if my son heard a single word, but I had to tell him.

And dreams... oh, I wanted to have a dream of communication from the next life. I had one all right, but it was not one that I could say was not the machinations of my own my mind. It wasn't clear that it was communication from that other world. But I heard so much from others about seeing angels at the time of death, or seeing a bright light as the spirit departed. I wanted that experience too. I received silence. I wanted to hear a voice. I received soundless space.

So, I worked... and tried to care about my work. But, I had to work at caring about work. How in the world was I going to make it after my heart had been R-I-P-P-E-D O-U-T?