Half an hour

Elizabeth Mulligan

If all the time I had left were thirty minutes, first I would have no fear of death; this may be due to the fact that I had a near death experience when I was only eleven years old.

Blood poisoning was the reason as to why I had a full blood transfusion on that day. My age now is forty-nine but I can recall this as though it happened yesterday. Some people claim they have been lucky enough to have a sighting and I am one of them. I was, I am told, deeply unconscious when my blood was being changed, but I was very aware of a bright light and my moving towards it. An old gentleman came towards me with a baby in his arms wrapped in a white shawl and as he approached I had this feeling of a great weight being lifted off my shoulders and immediately felt at peace - a great peace.

As the old man came closer the baby he was holding became older until he was now walking by the old mans side. That boy became familiar to me in a bonding way that was even stronger than the one I had with my four brothers and two sisters, we have always shared a strong family bond but this connection was different. As they walked even nearer I could sense that I knew both the old man and the blonde haired boy.

They and I were in a place that I can only describe as Utopia. The old man seemed to stay at the same age but as they came nearer the boy grew older till he reached about my age. This whole experience was never frightening in fact it was delightful watching the little baby boy growing up with what I can only describe as great peace and harmony which enfolded us all, as the boy reached his eleventh birthday.

My eyes opened to see my mothers worried face by my bedside at the Sick Childrens Hospital. I never told anyone about this experience until I was much older; in fact I was in my twenties that my mother told me that I was a twin and that my twin brother who had died had lovely blonde hair. Suddenly everything fell into place.

A few years later my nieces were looking at old photographs and asking their granny, my mother, who was who. There it was, a photograph of her grandfather the old man who was looking after my twin brother. Why the child was wearing the shawl was because he was only three and a half months old when he died, his grandmother had knitted that white shawl for him.

So you see I have no fear in my last half hour as now I know where and who will meet me when I get there. The only thing that would be left for me to do would be to hope that everyone around me wont be sad, because trust me I will be in a calm, peaceful, serene place full of love.