February 11, 2020 - around 9pm. I think I died. I will never know if I did, or how close I came to crossing that line. I remember fighting, hands around my throat... And quicker than I could say, "Baby please stop I'm sorry" there was nothingness.

But I guess there isn't actually nothingness. Because I was somewhere. There will never be words to describe where I was. It was bright like no other, but it wasn't harsh or painful like the commercial lights can be. Not even so much the sun, which can take its toll on your eyes if you're in it too long. It was such a bright happy light. Everything was bright and lit up. But it's almost as if it was coming from within. Everything I was sensing was vivid - but on top of seeing everything - it was like those sights had feelings that were being felt so deeply in my soul. Like I wouldn't have needed vision at all.

Everything was just good. The feeling in the space around me was of pure bliss. I have never felt something like that. I don't think it has a space in the range of emotion we feel day to day.

I sensed I was at a gate. One wasn't visible exactly - it was just a feeling. On the border of perhaps a wonderful garden. It feels like everything was just a world of light - yet that indescribable feeling that settled so deep... The one that makes it feel like you could be deaf and blind but still know every single thing that's around you.

And my dad was there. There were other people, but I remember my Dad. I saw him clear as day, but it wasn't the hardened, angry looking - and later cancer stricken - person I had known in my childhood. He no longer looked angry. He no longer looked in pain. He looked as he did in those pictures I have when he and my mom were young and free. When they lived in Virginia, before life took its toll. He's now in front of me and he looks carefree. And I know this place is wonderful. It's just good. I don't know how to describe it - I keep saying that - but it truly has no adjective in the English language. It was just this feeling. Maybe of peace, forgiveness, love, happiness, understanding, accepting... So many more just mixed into a ball of warm healing loving light.

On the border of this garden, the one I could feel yet not quite see, I hear my name. My name is being yelled over and over and over and over. It's pulling me back as I look at my dad for another last time. No one ever spoke, but I saw him. I stood near him. Or I existed near him. He didn't tell me it wasn't my time. He didn't tell me where we were. I was torn between this other voice calling for me... I don't think I wanted to leave my Dad now that I had him again. But it was pulling me, and I didn't have a choice but to go.

And then I woke up.

I woke up to the person who just almost killed me. Holding me, shaking me, screaming my name.

It felt so real. I can't explain it. But it felt real. I was there. I was with a man who died 19 years ago. The feeling of love and pure joy is not one I will likely forget.

It's been a week. And I still cry here and there. I feel like I'm empty. Confused. It seems cruel to be given this gift of seeing my father. I miss him so much. He died when I was 12. His diagnosis to death was 3 months. And he was gone. And now again. Just like that. Just as quickly. I had him and then I didn't. And the pain is like no other.

And then I feel guilty. Confused. How close was I? Did I die? Was I just on the brink? Was I in heaven? Or was this just some majestic way the brain protects itself. No matter the answers to these questions I can't shake how real it felt. I've had dreams that seem real to an extent. But this was not like that. This was that feeling deep in my soul I keep talking about. I can't describe it, but I felt it - it felt as real as sitting here typing does. If not more so.