Many have asked what happened while I was dead.
Believe or not. I can only say what I know.
Everytime I passed, seven times, the same experience lay before these street seasoned eyes.
As I have said, “Believe or not”, I was there, not you.
As my physical existence came to a crashing halt, I was subjected to the absolute excruciating pain that no mind is accustomed to comprehend.
And then, there I was, standing upon a knoll.
Before me lay paths – seven paths.
(Let me explain that it was not like I was standing in YOUR concept of earth and life. Words cannot describe the textures or smells of the mysterious plain of space/time continuum presented before me.)
There lay before me seven pathways. Seemingly constructed of Mother of Pearl infused energy.
And there on the seventh, far right, pathway, stood my Beloved birth mother. Smiling, and within my body I felt, not HEARD, her voice coaxing for my energy to follow her. I chose not to.
My reasoning for doubting her was very simple. She had abandoned me as a child. I was twelve when I first met her, briefly, after running away from my foster home and hitchhiking from Saint John to Toronto.
All for a half hour visit with a pleasant, but very drunk woman who birthed me.
I would be twenty-two and fresh out of federal prison next time we met.
I had a little over a year with her and we grew close.
On August first 1981 she passed from the butchery of her jealous ex-boyfriend’s, Robert George Stephenson’s knife. Murdered over minutia.
I was positive the path she summoned me to follow held tantamount pain and agony. For, had not both our lives been wrought with agonizing sorrow, deaths and depression filled darkness?
Five of the celestial pathways held no cerebral spirits.
The seventh path, far left, presented to me my dearest childhood friend and partner in many a crime, James “Jimi” McGourty. No other human soul had ever touched my very ID the way Jimi’s had. His death by police induced drug over dose scarred my very DNA.
I followed my friend.
And as a true friend does, Jimi brought me back to my existence here in this space/time continuum. I give praise to the Creator’s, yes , to quote Game of Thrones, God has many faces.
But not one face such as portrayed in any of the five thousand plus religious deities worshipped by various society sheep.
I was given a message – the same one seven times – I was needed here. My human side had a task to complete.
To this day I no not how to describe how this message was conveyed. There were no words. There was no sound. As with my mother Mary and brother-in-arms dearest friend, Jimi, I only knew that the message was instilled within my consciousness.
I also know that I will not return an eighth time.
What purpose I am destined to command will not be revealed to me until that final ascension of my life energies to my final destination.
Daily I muse over this quandary . I know that in this plain of existence my main goal is to guide my youngest son, Dakota, onto a peaceful and caring life path. To infuse into his ID none of the evil and dark which resides within me.
I know your Hades and the penance that accompanies such is here in this dimension of space /time.
And so have I experienced many a Hell.
And so have I paid (not fully) penance for killing, maiming, robbing and disrespecting my fellow man.
And so shall I suffer many more days of pain and sorrows and happiness and joys.
For every action, albeit physical or spiritual, there lays an opposite and equal reaction.
This I know as your truths. Believe or not.
I believe. For my mother raised no fool, she put me in foster care.
Until then, I remain, Dann, just as I am.