This is my story: “I accompanied his soul to the afterlife”

the dreaded news fell, a moment engraved in my memory. With my last born in my arms, I am waiting for my two sons at the end of school when my phone rings. It is my father, and his words capsize me on the spot: “They stop the treatments, it’s the end. »After months of fighting cancer, my sister, 43, mother of three, is going to die. And it is imminent. Karine, sunny, generous, sublime, four years older than me, so loving and maternal in childhood, and, later, my accomplice, my best friend, my pillar. The next day, I leave my spouse and children in Paris and I leave for Lyon, to be near her every second that remains, near her family who are somewhat mine, near our parents. That evening, I spent the night in the hospital, in her room, Karine was still conscious, also serene, probably because, unlike me, she had always had faith. At times, she even finds the courage to joke. For my part, I am devastated, shattered into a thousand pieces, but I do not yet know that in the midst of the drama I will experience an event that will change me forever.


The next day, I accompany her in the ambulance that takes her back to her house – “I want to die at home,” she told mom. Sitting next to her in the back of the vehicle, her body stretched to my left, I hold her warm hand in mine and remember those two chilling words, “last trip,” drumming in my brain. This is where something began, barely perceptible, like a light invisible cloud that lands on me, a caress that envelops me, the feeling of being carried. As if someone told me “I’m going to be fine”. It seems very strange to me, but isn’t my sister’s imminent death just as unreal to me? So, for once, I try not to rationalize, to let myself go to this appeasement, I cling to this feeling and another thought comes to calm my anxieties, “his hand is in mine, I’m fine with it. it “. Sometimes the two words that terrify me take over, “last trip”. Karine’s last days, we chose to live them together, her husband, her children, our parents, me, in her house, striving to stifle our pain. In order not to sink, we learn to live in the present moment and, almost by a miracle, life continues to burst forth. The children, the meals, the aperitifs, Karine’s friends passing by, the smiles, and sometimes even a few laughs. And especially this shared love, so strong, that sometimes it seems to me to touch the essential. So, strange as it may seem, even in these moments of infinite sadness, the force of feelings that unites us is also a moment of grace.

Karine is less and less conscious and we take turns at her bedside. This is the fourth day that I fully lived this extraordinary experience. I am in Karine’s room, sitting next to the medical bed where she “sleeps”. The subtly vaporous cloud that had surrounded me in the ambulance comes back to envelop me again and thickens over the seconds. I have the impression that it enters me and inhabits me completely, that it lifts me up. In almost forty years of life, I have never experienced such a sensation. And the latter is accentuated, takes hold of my mind, like a wave that overwhelms me, of infinite power and softness. I am both there and elsewhere, totally dissociated. I watch Karine sleep and I only feel a kind of sweet nostalgia with the feeling of immense privilege. These words are crazy, almost indecent, but that’s what I feel at that moment, when I have the impression of being in this elsewhere where there is the quintessence of the purest, the most absolute love. . I try to say, to explain, but, at the same time, I know that nothing can describe this experience which, at the moment, I dare not share with anyone. I kept this secret until his funeral, six days later, when an inexplicable force made me stand up and tell, with I do not know what words, a little bit of this strange event. Through him, I told the hundreds of people who were there, in immense sorrow, that hope was greater than anything. A lot of things happened in the weeks and months that followed, and above all I inquired and I surfed for many hours on the Internet to try to find out more about these manifestations, to understand what was beyond my control. right. I read testimonies there and I was moved, and reassured, to recognize in each other’s statements fragments of my

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