You’d be surprised how much you want that last breath, and how hard your body will fight for it. Sometimes, your body knows better than you, or at least it thinks that it does. In those moments, your body will work crosscurrent to what you want. It will take the reins and make it known that you have little to no choice as to what’s about to happen. But this time, my body is making it harder to do what I want, which is normal. But my body doesn’t know best. This time, it’s better just to let go and finally rest.
But my body doesn’t think so. Neither does my mind apparently.
That’s why I start seeing things I suppose. My children, and grandchildren are here, my fading sight can still see this. But they’re getting fuzzy, indistinct, like a polaroid picture in reverse. But the vision that lights up in the middle of my vision is crisp, clear, and just as painful as the day they happened. Well, maybe not quite as painful
I can’t focus on my eldest grandchild, Jordan, though I recognize the timbre of her voice. But suddenly my body finally decides to agree with me, and gives out. I can feel my final breath leaving my body, and yet…the pain isn’t there. I thought dying after a prolonged period would hurt just as bad, that it would be that final shock, that burst of pain that comes before the lights go out. But I’m awake.
And it doesn’t hurt.
As soon as the first vision starts rolling again though, the pain returns, just in a different way.
(to be continued)