Do you believe when someone dies they’re really gone?

And where do you think they go?

I’ve had partial answers to these questions.  I know what I’ve been taught.  I know what I believe about what I’ve learned, there’s some variance.  Now I can add my recent experiences, since my husband’s sudden death.  I’ve experienced the other side recently, through someone who I lived with, talked to and loved daily.  A relationship so close, two human beings couldn’t be closer than we were. 

I assure you, now that I’ve had someone as close to myself as possible, who’s passed to the great unknown; he still exists. You will continue to exist too.  I’m not preaching or prophesying, just sharing my new experiences. After our first Celebration of Life for my husband’s passing at the park he loved, I was back home. I contemplated my new reality while still trying to wrap my mind around just this one day.

I walked to the bathroom to change, shower, and get ready for bed.  As I passed the shower on my way to the closet to change, I distinctly felt him there. It stopped me.  He stood at the threshold of the door.   He opened his arms, I opened mine back.  He hugged me. I could feel exactly what the memory of his body was, holding me and hugging me. He felt a bit bigger and broader. He still had his same shape, just a little grander.

He had watched me that night at his Celebration.  He heard me speak to all of his fans, friends and family.  He watched me in grace, loving all his people, our people.  In the instant Grant hugged me, he also communicated, ‘You did a great job tonight babe. I’m so proud of you.’ I could hear his words, almost audible as the memory of his voice was still as clear as the afternoon sun shining on my face. Even now after sunset, I could feel pride beaming from him for me as he held me.

How real it was as I felt him, so close. It was so real, it became hard to stand there and feel that. I wanted to stay forever and yet it hurt so badly, because I couldn’t see him, not the way I was used to. So, this hug was reminding me he was indeed, gone.  The imprint of his body next to mine exactly as it once was, just not visible in this moment.  The reality hit me so heavily again, that I had to pull away from him.  I could feel him respond with sadness to have me pull away.  It was just as in life when that happened. 

It felt wrong to pull away from him.  It felt as if I were pushing him away, when he was already so far away. I had a moment to hold him close again.  It just hurt so much and felt so overwhelming.  In a silly sense, as I was watching myself hug what appeared to be nothing but air; all of a sudden I felt self-conscious. I felt like a lunatic, but I knew it was real.  It was more real than most of the experiences I have that I can see. 

As all of this played out, I experienced all the emotions flowing through my body; the overarching sense of the loss of my partner and best friend, the father of my children and the life we’d had and had planned to continue. It was then replaced with the thoughts of the new life I’d have to create without him. The truth that there was no way for me to change that fact circled it all.  It was too much. I walked away from the rest of the hug. 

I also knew it was a moment I’d regret, but I couldn’t bring myself to engage further.  I let him hold me as long as I could stand it because I knew it would come to an end.  If I chose when it ended, it would give me some semblance of choice in this matter. 

In life I would let you go Grant even when I needed it.  I wouldn’t be greedy and try to hold you forever.  I let you go before I was ready so that I could be ready.  It was not because I wanted to but because I had to.  Thank you so much for that one last hug that I couldn’t make last longer.