A Visit to Paradise
A Heavenly Flash Fiction Story
Marsha sat at her keyboard. What to write? How do you begin to tell the most amazing story of your life? I’m a doctor, she thought, I should know how to do this. I know the body and how it functions. I know death. I’ve pronounced many deaths in my 20 years as an Internist. It has been 10 years. It’s time to tell the story.
I never thought it would happen to me, but it did. I had been out working in the garden when I went into cardiac arrest. My husband called 9–1–1 and the paramedics arrived within 15 minutes. They rushed me to St. John’s where they went through the standard procedure. But they couldn’t get my heart started.
I remember floating above my body and watching the doctors and nurses working on me. I knew the routine. They gave me oxygen and did CPR. It was a textbook case of cardiac arrest and resuscitation. Only, I wasn’t responding.
I drifted up through the ceiling and out of the hospital. Two figures joined me, one on either side. Together we proceeded toward the opening of a dark tunnel. I could feel us gaining speed. No one spoke, but I sensed my companions had come to guide me and protect me during our journey. I felt love emanating from them.
As we entered the tunnel, I felt us moving more rapidly. Far up ahead I could see a faint light. We gathered speed. The light grew brighter. In some ways it felt like riding the subway. I didn’t have to move. We just seemed to glide along.
Soon, we emerged from the tunnel and I found myself looking at a lush landscape with flowers and trees and a rolling meadow. I could see some people picnicking. They had a dog and the man threw a ball for the dog to chase. Several groups of people dotted the meadow. I could see a large lake in the distance with a couple of ancient boats pulled up on shore.
I felt such joy. Love permeated the air and I could hear singing. It sounded like a choir with thousands of voices singing in perfect harmony. Their beautiful faint melody filled the air.
Plants blossomed everywhere. Their sweet fragrances reached my nose. The smell reminded me of the Miss Kim lilac in my backyard. No florist had so many flowers or displayed such beauty.
My companions led me along a path to a massive gate. A man met us there. “Hi Marsh,” he said. “I’m Peter. We’ve been expecting you.” How did he know my name? Expecting me? Where am I? I tried to think but thoughts didn’t come to me.
The man disappeared behind a massive door. I waited. After what seemed like ages, he reappeared.
“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “but I can’t find your name in the book. Please follow me.” He wore a long, beige robe tied with a cord around his waist. The robe reached nearly to the ground. A large wooden cross hung from his neck. He wore a bushy beard, had golden, shoulder-length hair and the kindest eyes I’d ever seen.
He ushered me into a large waiting room. One side featured a floor-to-ceiling window. Actually, it was more like those tropical hotels with no wall separating the lobby from the outside world. I could see several groups of people in the lush meadow beyond the wall. I stood at the window/door and they waved to me. One looked like by my Grandmother Brooks another like Uncle Joe. I waved back.
I wanted to go out and greet them, but something stopped me. I felt an unseen barrier holding me back.
A love so thick I could taste it enveloped me, a deep, rich, unconditional love more powerful than anything I’d ever felt. I had come home.
As I stood there, I wondered again where I was. Just as quickly as the thought occurred, the answer came to me — Marsha, you’re in Paradise. But how can that be? I feel very much alive. In fact, more alive than I’ve ever felt. I feel young and vigorous. But if I’m in Paradise, I must be dead.
Then I remembered the body I’d seen the doctors working on. Could it be?
Just then, Peter returned.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “But you’ll have to go back. It’s not your time, yet. That’s why I couldn’t find your name in the book.”
“But, I don’t want to go back,” I protested. “I feel such peace and joy here. I feel at home. I feel like I belong here. There are people out there waiting for me. I saw them. My grandmother and Uncle are out there. Please let me stay,” I pleaded, almost in tears.
“Sorry,” Peter said. “I don’t make the rules. But if you’ll wait here, I’ll see what I can do.”
A dazzling warm light brighter than the Sun filled the room. I felt more love than I had ever felt before. I heard a voice that seemed to be in my head and outside of me at the same time. “My dear child,” it said. “I need you to return to your previous life. I have much work for you to do. I want you to go back and tell others of your experience. Tell them what you saw, heard and felt. Tell them what you smelled and tasted. Your time will come and when it does, I’ll welcome you with open arms. But for now, you must return.”
The voice spoke with such authority I could not object. As sad as I felt, I knew I must obey.
The next thing I remember I heard a nurse scream, “Doctor, she’s breathing.” I heard people rushing around me. I opened my eyes. When they finally focused, I saw a doctor bending over me. “Welcome back,” he said. “I thought we’d lost you.”
Later I learned that I’d been “gone” for almost 20 minutes. By “gone” I mean no pulse, no respiration. By all rights I should have been dead. In fact, the doctor had pronounced me. He even noted the time of death in my chart.
Wow, I thought. So that’s what heaven is like. I hadn’t actually gotten through the gate, but I’d seen and felt and heard how beautiful and peaceful and joyful it was. To be honest, I couldn’t wait to get back there.
Marsha sat back and looked at what she’d written. She scrolled through it several times, did a spelling and grammar check, pasted it into the web page and clicked on the button to publish it.
What she had written didn’t do justice to the place she’d visited, but it would have to do for now.