Gavin Whyte is the author of The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair, Happiness & Honey and Waiting for Wings.
Wednesday, 1 April 2015
Dying in a Dream
I'm not really one for sharing dreams but I feel compelled to share this one with you.
It happened a couple of nights ago.
I was laying on the backseat of my parents' car. I wasn't well at all. I think the car was going really fast, so I'm guessing we were whizzing our way to the hospital.
All of a sudden I floated out of my body and sat up straight. There was no panic whatsoever. In fact, I was really calm, collected and at peace.
I said, 'Dad, I think I've died.'
But even though I had said those words they were silent. Come to think of it, it was exactly like a thought. I was aware that my words were silent to the ear, but I also knew that my dad could hear me.
He turned around instantly and gently nudged my body. When he saw that it was lifeless pandemonium broke out in the car.
My parents were crying and panicking and all the while I was saying to them (silently, as before), 'I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm here.' But I knew it was futile. They couldn't hear me anymore.
And I knew why.
It was their fear.
Their fear was overriding that part of their psyche that only a moment before was alert and sensitive enough to hear my silent words.
** Reflecting on the dream, I can't help but think that this is exactly what happens when we die. And those who are left behind block the channel of contact with fear of their own death and the suffering they cause themselves through grieving severely.