On my 45th birthday, my first without my mom, my boyfriend’s mother gave me a gift that holds a special personal meaning to me. I don’t know how she knew the one thing that I wanted more than anything else in the world. But somehow, she nailed it.
No, I don’t want a new wardrobe, a bigger television, more craft supplies or anything else. All I fucking want is some peace. That’s all.
When I asked her how she knew, she just shrugged.
You always seem so lost and sad, she replied.
Well, yeah. She’s more observant than I had originally given her credit for.
I’m not exactly sure how to find peace. Solitude is rather peaceful, until I start to get lonely. (Yes, introverts get lonely too!) Sometimes I’ll get a peaceful, easy feeling after I’ve prayed. Or when I break bad on occasion and have a nasty, gross cigarette. Or when I take something on a bad night to help me sleep better.
None of these interactions with peace ever last long.
Last summer, when I went to North Carolina with friends who had lost their mom to Covid so that they could sprinkle her ashes in the ocean, I had a bit of an episode. We had just gotten there earlier that evening, then we went food shopping. Afterward, we were all sitting on the deck. I had gone most of the day without eating much at all. I passed out while I was talking to my boyfriend on the phone. It dropped from my hand and that’s all I remember.
It was dark, mostly gray really. I felt like I was drifting away from all things earthly. I could hear their voices calling my name, although just barely. I didn’t want to open my eyes, I wanted to stay wherever the hell I was. I felt so calm and (ahem) peaceful.
I wasn’t scared at all.
I think someone must have shook me so hard that I came to long enough to mumble, “low blood sugar”. Then I closed my eyes again, wanting more than anything to escape the confines of my physical form, to go back to that blissful freedom.
I didn’t see any bright lights. I didn’t hear the voice of God or see any of my dead relatives. But damn, maybe I would have if someone hadn’t shoved a piece of bakery into my mouth and instructed me to wake up and chew, damn it, Mer!
After a few minutes, my sugar crash reversed itself and I was able to sit up again. Then they made me a sandwich. I remember sitting there, listening to the ocean waves, nibbling on my food and wondering what had just happened to me.
I’m a diabetic and I can’t go long periods of time without eating. Duh. That’s the reality of it.
But I DID find peace for a short time…although I don’t think it’s the kind that my boyfriend’s mom meant when she gave me that gift.
Have you ever had any kind of NDE (near death experience) before?