It was morning and he awoke to the gentle whispering of his lovely mother like he had always done. Her gentle voice was soothing, he smiled and cooed as she softly massaged his arms, although today it took lots of effort. He tried to move his delicate hand to lightly touch his mother's arm in return but he found that he still could not; he was still too weak. Even though he could only live in the moment for most things, he knew deep down in his heart, where no words or comprehension were really necessary, that the sun had set on his life. The mood of the house was different this morning.
He knew what happened next and as his mother pulled his tight and crippled body gently to the edge of his bed and onto the shower trolley she still took the time to softly tell him what was about to happen. He looked forward to these mornings when he got to enjoy the warm waters of a nice shower before getting ready for the day. Looking around, he could see the familiar walls of his bedroom as they passed from his view. He suddenly felt the all too familiar feeling of hotness spreading slowly through his arms and legs and before he knew it he was under the warm and sweet smelling shower for a moment, before again realizing he was back in his bed.
As tired and heavy as his body had gotten, the fog that encircled his mind had cleared significantly and the person who he truly was, the one who had been locked away for 17 and a half years in a very broken body, was emerging. He had more awareness than he'd experienced… ever, really. The closer he drew to death, the clearer his mind got until he got to the point that he realized what was happening and finally had the capacity to remember. He felt badly for not remembering much of the sweet shower his mother had prepared for him and as he looked out through his eyes he could see his entire family gathered around him as he lay on the family couch. He was being held, all 5'10'' of him, by his athletic mother who had cared for him this way his whole life. His head was cradled in her right arm, his stiff and unbending legs elevated by pillows to her left, his feet covered by the fuzzy slippers he had become famous for wearing.
It was at that moment, when his soul was slipping from his body, that he came to the awareness that he was dying. He didn't want to go- he desperately wanted to stay, broken body or not, with the family who loved him dearly and who had dedicated their lives to his care. He wanted to come back and tell his crying mother that he was okay and that it didn't hurt. He wanted to tell his father that he would watch every sports game with him and enjoy that excitement again. He wanted to thank his brothers and sisters for all that they sacrificed on his behalf and reassure them that he was all right. The more his soul slipped from his body the clearer his mind became and he began himself to weep as he realized that those he loved and trusted so fully had to experience the sting of death. He hung on for dear life, determined to stay in his body as long as he possibly could, wanting to shout his gratitude from the rooftops.
Finally, his mother whispered into his ear, "The sun has set on your time here, Steven. Be free and always protect us. You deserve to run free."
Finally, with a big and content sigh, Steven's soul glided gently away and his body was still. However, he still couldn't bear to leave right away and hovered just behind the couch, in a shapeless form for now since it had been many years since he had use of his arms and legs. He knew that they all knew he was still present, for this aura of death gave them extra sensitivity to his spirit. As soon as he was freed from his body all of the pains from his condition began to melt away and he began to realize how good it felt not to have those physical limitations. The further he glided from his body the better he felt and his sadness was replaced with joy as he realized all of the pains that he would never feel again.
He looked to his right and there, in the corner of the room, was a figure as clear as glass and as lovely as nature. He knew right away who this was- it was the spirit escort that would be taking him to the Realm of Souls where he would reside forever. He was surprised that it wasn't any family member (for none that were close had gone before him) but it was that of a sweet childhood friend. She smiled and nodded at him, allowing him to take all of the time he needed to feel comfortable in leaving his family. He smiled back at her and again looked back to his family who were all so very sad. He decided to wait there until the ambulance came which would take the shell of his carnal being away to be prepared for the funeral pyre that he would traditionally receive. Just before it arrived, he heard his little brother whisper, "Did it hurt… did it hurt at all when all of those thing happened to you?" Steven knew that this question was being asked directly to him and even though he didn't speak with any sort of voice, he knew that his brother would receive his reply. "I didn't feel a thing. Not then, and not in death."
As the ambulance came to the house, he looked up at the clear spirit again. Her hair was long and flowed past her shoulders and her heart-shaped face had a look of pure joy. She slowly outstretched her hand and he carefully raised his own arm, something he hadn’t been able to do in a lifetime. He took her hand at last and felt the flow of the energy of love flow from her spirit to his. As they ascended towards the blue portal nearby, Steven paused and looked directly into the mirror that had faced their living room for years, catching a glimpse of himself as he was in his restored figure.
Judging by the looks on his family's faces, he knew that they had seen his reflection too, and knew that they would be all right.
Goodbye, Steven
August 8, 1994 to March 29, 2012
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