Response From Death

My Dearest Julie,

            I use that term of endearment, because my darling, you are quite dear to me, as are all of the souls I have helped and will help over the great expanse of time.  You may scoff at this – many do, but I will be firm in defense of my regard.  I love you all.  Yes, sometimes you are taken too young, like in the case of our young Chad that you so fondly remember to me in your letter.  I remember all of them you know, and in a way I remember them all simultaneously, even those that have yet to come. It is quite overwhelming at times, to know when the world will end.  My only comfort is in the small part I play in the release of my dearly departed.  For you are mistaken when you say that I “take” them. My dear, I am no more in charge of the “when” than is an imaginary benevolent or vindictive (depending) entity in the sky.  You, yourselves, provide the moment that you leave this world, either by choice or be design.  I am merely the guide the leads you to peace.

            To explain: When you die, you are confused. In fact, the more brutal and gruesome your death, the more confused you are when we meet. There is so much chaos at the end of life. So many fluids and flesh and tears and good-byes.  I am the one that calms your soul and guides you to the afterlife.  There is no gate with a holy questioner. You know how you have lived and you know if your life was good. There is no gate because there is no choice. You all go to the same place – I know this may be hard to understand, and I will not elaborate further. You will see when you see.

            You may wonder why I have chosen to respond to your letter. I am quite a busy entity, guiding the millions who die every day.  I am responding because you thanked me.  You thanked me for not taking him the day you went to the lake, and jumped together in a moment of “pure joy.” You also thanked me for showing you how precious life was.  My dear, it was not I that showed you those things. It was Chad, himself.  He was the master of that plan. Your love for him allowed you to see the one gift to come from his tragic demise. I cannot take the credit for that, my dearest girl, not at all.

            I will leave you with a thanks of my own: Thank you for taking the time to think about the job that I do every minute of every day and thank you for allowing me time to explain. I will see you – when I see you!

With much love and great regard,

Death