“How do you feel?” he asked in a calm, gentle voice, still holding my hand, still stroking my hair, while the claws of pain were gripping more and deeper into my chest. The thirst was slowly becoming unbearable, and air got thicker, turning my every breath into a fight for life. This is how it feels when a heart literally breaks, I heard myself thinking, but, immediately, I blamed the bitter voice from the inside.
There was no time for poetry, I was agonizing under the deep blue of his serene eyes, wondering where is the help I needed so much. My mind was memorizing the past minutes, sensations, panic, storm…a lightning and such a cruel pain in my heart, that almost left me numb. Flashing lights, a man walking towards me, all white, checking my pulse, saving me from falling into the arms of despair.
“I’m here to help you” he said, so I immediately supposed he’s a doctor. The normality, the logic, the common sense in everything we do…that’s a sign of being sane, isn’t it? Still, the ambulance was late, much too late, and the oxygen mask was nowhere, and he…he was just smiling at me, disarming my struggles, my torment, my rage.
The raindrops felt warm on my cheeks, I closed my eyes and he tried to wipe the salty water from my face, but the sweet scent of mosque on his fingers just intensified the rain. When did I start to cry and what is this purifying feeling inside me?
“How do you feel?” he asked again and, this time, it wasn’t the pain that kept me from breathing. Something higher, so graceful and holly, something that has nothing to do with pain, death, anger…that something was embracing me, healing me…loving me.
I feel grateful.
For this pain that reminds me of life as a blessing, even in the most desperate moments.
For my vulnerability…sweet prove that falling is, sometimes, the best way to learn how to rise from the ashes.
For the over-sensitivity I blamed so much, and still…this is the brightest part of me.
For my heart that breaks so easily and hurts so deep and fears, and aches, and runs…but it never stops loving…not now, nor beyond the last of its beats.
For the lessons and for the demons…they taught me to be brave in all my battles.
For the scars…for the faith that heals them…for YOU.
Yes, I am grateful for YOU.
“The storm is coming, you need a shelter” I heard Him saying just moments before miraculously taking all the pain away…
I need a shelter, we all do…Let it be YOU, sweet Jesus.
I found the image at: https://www.jashow.org/articles/what-is-a-near-death-experience/