What happens when we die?

When my father passed away, overridden with grief, I wanted to know, that wherever he was, he was o.k. So I did what every modern-day American does to gain answers: I went to Google. I googled ‘life after death’.

We’ve all heard stories of people who’ve had near death experiences. Everyone claims seeing lights, entering tunnels, reuniting with loved ones who departed before them, feeling an immense sense of peace. Many don’t want to come back to their bodies even though something/someone tells them it isn’t time to go yet. Others, those who die quickly, see their entire lives flash before their eyes. Though some neuroscientists have claim these experiences are mere artefacts of our neurons firing vehemently in some parts of the brain, as a neuroscientist myself, I think there is more to the story.

I found a website called NDREF, the Near Death Experience Research Foundation (http://www.nderf.org), which catalogues thousands of personal accounts from people all over the world who died and came back to life. I spent countless nights reading these. The similarities in their stories are striking, and the description of their experiences more than convinced me that there is indeed another realm where our souls go when they leave our bodies.

This one is from a man with a near death experience from an anaphylactic reaction:

I felt myself floating into pitch blackness accompanied by an incredible feeling of peace and tranquility. It was the most serene and beautiful experience imaginable. I couldn’t see anything in this darkness, yet I could feel an overwhelming peace and serenity. It was an amazingly beautiful experience. I don’t know how long this lasted, but I didn’t want it to stop. The next thing I recall was a very annoying jab in my right arm.

While most are serious, this one was particularly funny, from an ICE nurse who went into cardiac arrest:

That’s when I popped out of my body and watched EVERY single CPR and medical procedure done to me. I heard and saw it ALL. It was a distinctive ‘pop’ that I felt when I left my body. I was on the ceiling watching it all. I didn’t really feel disturbed to see my body on the bed. I just thought that I looked terrible and ‘no way am I going back into that!’ I watched coworkers do chest compressions and cut off my clothes and thought, ‘Dammit, that was my best Victoria’s Secret bra.’   

By the way, not all stories are good ones. Anywhere from 8-25% of people described going somewhere that resembled hell.

Around the same time, I began reading a book by a female orthopaedic surgeon who was pinned down in her kayak underwater for over 12 minutes while on holiday in a remote area in Chile. She died, and went to what she thought were the gates of ‘heaven’, before she was resuscitated. She wrote a pretty riveting book about her experience during those few minutes when her friends were performing CPR, as well as her life before and after her near death experience (https://www.amazon.com/Heaven-Back-Doctors-Extraordinary-Account/dp/0307731715). The fact that she is a surgeon adds a little more credibility to her story, at least for us skeptical ones.

This weekend is the 1-year anniversary of my dad’s passing. I remember that day like it was yesterday, and I doubt that I will ever forget it. I sat next to him during his last hours, and I heard him take his last breath. I knew it would be the last one, because they had become more and more sparse. When he left I whispered in his ear ‘have a good journey’. It was automatic, nothing I ever planned to say, somehow it felt like the right thing to say in that moment, because somehow I felt he was going somewhere. In that instant, I didn’t feel grief, quite the opposite, a great sense of calmness. (The immense sense of grief hit later).

There are people out there who claim they can communicate with the dead, and who’s souls appear to live between these two realms. A lot of people are very skeptical about this, and I was certainly one of those people up until this year. But now I am not. Probably because I am related to one of these people, someone who has relayed messages from my father after his death. I also had a few dreams with him after he died, of where he was (sadly not quite heaven yet), and another one where he told me he would miss me. I often feel his presence. I think twice before I do something bad because I feel he is watching and would be ashamed. I play music from the 50s from my Jango iPhone radio, which he loved listening to when I visited him, while I cook (he loved cooking and he loved food!), and I feel as though we are cooking together.

So what happens when we die? Maybe nothing. Maybe this is it. Maybe we all imagine ‘heaven’ because it makes us feel better, because we want our departed loved ones to be in a peaceful, loving place. Because we want to go there too when we die. But the truth is no one knows for certain. We will all find out eventually, I suppose.

What I do know for sure is that the world is a pretty special place. I’ve been lucky enough to see so much of it during my travels. Places that make your jaw drop, such spectacular beauty that you’d have to be a fool not to believe that there is a God or master creator, who is not only the smartest of scientists, but the greatest of artists. So believe what you will, but I’m sticking to the idea that there is a heaven on earth, and a heaven beyond where my dad’s soul rests, that is as spectacular as here.