The old man stretched and breathed deeply.. Waves of well-being washed over him. He had not slept so well in months — years! They must have given him something to make him sleep like that. He felt rested and free from pain, almost as if he could get up and walk.
He opened his eyes, expecting to see the ceiling of his little hospital room. He closed them and thought, Whoa! That can’t be right. I’m a sick old man. I’m having a hallucination. He opened his eyes, but again, what he saw was a blue sky, clear and bright. It wasn’t bright enough to hurt his eyes; just bright enough to be — beautiful. “What am I doing outside?” he asked aloud.
A tall young man answered, “You’re outside because you’ve been set free.”
Somehow he knew right away who this young man was. He had never seen him before but he knew. This was the son they had lost — was it fifty years ago? The infant son who didn’t make it.
The young man laughed and said, “Hi, Dad! I’m John. Get up and come with me.”
The old man jumped to his feet, light as air. His limbs felt as young and strong as he could ever remember. Realization swept over him. “I’m dead? Is that it?”
John laughed. It was a laughter so joyous that his father joined in. “No. Dad, you’re not dead! You’ve just come truly alive. Come with me, they’re all waiting for you.”
© Copyright 2008 Doremi (UN: nicegrandma777 at Writing.Com).
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