CT – 222                   CORNERSTONE TRAVELER                                               NOV. 12 ‘13

 

A BIG HI to all my readers of this bi-weekly newsletter The CORNERSTONE TRAVELER and to those on the web at www.cornerstonetraveler.com

mid-Hudson Valley news:  There is an apple pochard farm, about a mile from the house where I am living and the house where I grew up on as a kid.  One summer I worked on that farm propping and pruning the apple trees then picking apples.  There were several ramshackle houses used to shelter the migrant workers of this farm ( migrant workers are people who move from farm to farm up and down the East coast to work the different farms.)  It is apparent that the owners of the apple orchard farm sold almost everything including the barn that was converted into almost luxury apartments.  (In 2003 a single bedroom rented at $950/month, a two bedroom $1150/month) Also the ramshackle houses were rebuilt into nice homes

Though there are still some apple trees in the once productive orchard, that they are so few that apples are no longer harvested from the trees

I remember during the lunch period ( my lunch consisted either a P&J sandwich or a boloney sandwich.)  I watched the tractor trailers back into the loading docks of the barn and was amazed at how the drivers of those big rigs effortlessly backed their rigs in an almost square Z pattern from Rte 32.  I had a hard time backing a tractor pulled trailer straight back.  I thought the drivers of those big rigs were outstanding as drivers.

Damn! I miss the New Paltz of old with all the farms.

Another farm I worked at was a dairy farm when I was 12 or 13.  All I and another boy had to do was lead the herd of cows from one pasture to another depending on the time of day and the sun.

That dairy farm is now housing developments.

I’ll never forget that one day when my friend and I were brining the herd of cows from one pasture to another, when we heard a charging thumping at our backs.  We turned and saw a steer with head down charging at us.  You never saw two boys run to the nearest tree and climb faster than a monkey.

Those are my memories of New Paltz, years and years ago.

observations:

After the latest government shutdown, the tea party took a slam with their approval rating lower than Congress, which was and still is low.  The approval rating of the President is maybe twice that of the tea party.

I then saw on TV a tea party candidate for Congress from Mississippi insists he would he would like and vote for another government shutdown.  I have to wonder if the people of the tea party were or are aware that the last government shutdown cost the American economy twenty-four billion dollars?  Do they even care?  Or are they so intent on making President Obama look bad that they don’t care the cost to the American economy?

Question:  What is the relationship between the tea party and a male sperm?

Answer: They both have a one in a million chance of becoming human.

I guess that says it all about the tea party.

Yesterday was Veterans Day.  It was a time to remember our veterans of all wars.  It is sad that thousands of veterans are living on the streets, homeless.  There must be something that the VA can and should do to help these veterans.

sports:

The Jets had a bye week this past Sunday as did their arch rivals, the Patriots.  The Giants played the Raiders and won by a score of 24-20

The Knicks have a 2-4 record in the Atlantic Division of the NBA.  The Nets have a 2-4 record in the same conference.

The Rangers are having a so so season in the NHL Eastern Conference with a record of  9-8.  The Islanders have a 6-9 record

As with all previous issues of this newsletter, everything printed here is either copyright protected or copyright pending

The history of P&G’s follows this newsletter from 1900 when the building was first constructed to about the mid 1930’s.

The short story following this history is called Ascension. The first short story in my book of short stories called COSMIC WHISPERER.  It is a story of what I thought my little sister experienced when she died tragically in a car accident in 1974 when she was almost 21.  Her death took a lot out of me as did the writing of this short story.

I hope you like it.

Thank-you Rik McGuire

                     The History of P&G’s from the Beginning

 

Travel back more than a century to the spring of 1900 as builder John H. Hasbrouck and his men construct a 50′ by 28′ building on the site of the current P&G’s Restaurant.  Look around and begin to imagine.

The first floor features a fountain with water softly falling into a cobblestone basin.  The exotic effect is enhanced with darting goldfish and blooming water lilies.  Palms set liberally throughout the room, provide an air of privacy for those seated at the groups of small tables.  Patrons, dressed in their finest, sit chatting, sometimes courting and enjoying the establishments fine refreshments.

The upper story is a promenade, opened to a full view of sunset over the Shawangunk Mountains.  Live music gently eases you from afternoon into evening.  Welcome to the ambiance and hospitality of the Casino.

The Casino’s owner, Mr Steen, had correctly envisioned the areas many tourists, summer boarders and trolley passengers stopping to enjoy the unique features of his establishment.  The terminal station for the trolley line from Highland is located just across Main Street.  It is said that Steen patterned the Casino after the famous Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs.

On June 1, 1900 the Casino was officially opened.  That evening “a large number of people enjoyed the ice cream, music and the lovely mountains views.”  according to the New Paltz Independent newspaper.  Music was provided by a band which included a piano and several other instruments.  The Casino soon became famous for Saturday night dances held on the second floor of the open pavilion.  It was decorated with flowers and vines suspended from the rafters.  The crowds were so large that special late trolley cars were run to accommodate the guests and take the orchestra back to Poughkeepsie.

The electric power shut down at midnight. According to Independent writer Delia Shaw “…the time of closing and the departure of the last trolley (run by electricity) had to be reckoned with, but as was often the case, several folks ‘Missed the Last Trolley’… seems between intermissions the  fellows would walk their girls down the street where numerous straw thatched summer houses were located on the banks of the Wallkill River and they were so preoccupied with making love by the light of the silvery moon that they forgot everything.”  Shaw continued.  “Saturday Nights In New Paltz Became A Legend!  There was not a single hitching post available, nor an inch of space under any of the sheds of the five local hotels.  The Casino drew people from surrounding towns and they came via hay loads and 4 seated carriages, while some men even walked and carried their dancing shoes.  ‘Little Larry,’ the shoeshine fellow, did a landslide business on Sat. Nights!  As did all the merchants and the stores open ‘til 9 p.m.”

By 1921 the Casino had changed hands and names, becoming the Blue Crane Inn.  Ads of the era read.

The big Night at the Blue Crane In

Dancing Every Wednesday and Saturday Evening

In the Chinese Hall-Good Jazzy Music.

The cornerstone of nightlife in New Paltz continued to thrive.

In 1925, after 28 Years of service, the Highland to New Paltz trolley company folded.  The demise of the trolley business and the affordability of the automobile meant peoples outings were no longer confined to the trolley’s narrow corridor.  They could drive to any village hotel, restaurant, or scenic spot that caught their fancy.  Indeed, New Paltz and the Blue Crane Inn lost their captive audience.  The Inn, however, continued to accommodate people well into the 1930’s.  Other establishments came and went until 1947 when it became Pat and Georges and ultimately was nicknamed the P&G’s that welcomes everybody.

                               Ascension      

July 14, 1974 – Midnight

The moon shone brightly on the church cemetery in the cloudless sky.  The stars pierced the darkness with stellar intensity on the warm summer night.  Tombstones stood guard forlornly over the cemetery grounds.

From a newly filled grave of the  day,  a mist seeped and eased from the dark brown earth.  The mist spun slowly around an unseen axis.  The spinning mist formed the image of a young lady crying into her hands.  The image just floated in a sitting position over the new grave plot.  The image sobbed uncontrollably with seemingly catching breaths and sniffles.

From a nearby plot another mist began to spin and the image of a young man in a military uniform appeared.  This image floated to the sobbing girl and reached down to let her know she was not alone.

Lynn looked up to the face of John and asked.  “Who are you and why am I here?”

John shook his mist, shrouded head.   “My name is John and I only know what I over heard at your service earlier today.”

“Service?”  Lynn asked

“Your funeral service.”  He answered.

“My funeral service?  Is that why I feel so alone?”  Lynn asked.

John nodded   “You feel so alone because you were torn violently from life as I

was five years ago.  You were not prepared for your death as most of the souls buried here

were.”

Lynn put her face in her hands and sobbed.  “I died?  I thought as much when I heard all

the voices earlier today.  But I thought it was all just a horrible dream.”

“What is the last you remember of your mortal life?”

Lyn looked up and hesitated, lost in thought, then said.  “I remember riding home with my friend late at night.  I heard her scream and I heard the squeal of tires and a mighty sounding crunch.”  She paused and then continued.  “The next I remember is,  today,  hearing all those voices talking of me.”

“Yes, I heard the voices and learned that you died three days ago.”

“Three days!”  Lynn cried.  “I remember nothing of three days.”

John nodded.  “Of course not.  Because you were torn violently from life, your soul spent this time in a conscious and unconscious limbo.”

“Limbo?”  Lynn questioned.

“Yes the unconscious soul has to prepare the conscious soul for the after life.  So to speak.”

Lynn shook her head.  “I am confused and scared.”

“That is understandable.  It happens to all who pass, especially those who pass suddenly and violently.”

“Did it happen to you?”  Lynn sobbed.

“Yes.”  John replied.

“How did you . . .  die?”

“I was killed in Vietnam in February of 1969.”

Lynn looked into John’s face and stared, then said.  “Yes,  I remember.  You were a friend  of my brother.  He was very shaken and upset with the news of your death.”  Lynn paused to collect her thoughts and continued.  “I personally went ballistic on the news.  It reaffirmed my position of the wrongness of that hateful war and of all wars.  And I think my brother turned from everything the government said.  Your death forced him to chant and yell loudly against that cursed war.”

“Yes, I understand.”   John said.  ” I didn’t realize the wrongness of the war until just a few days before I died.  And now afterwards, I understand the protests.”  Shaking his head, he turned away.

Lynn nodded deep in thought, then she  turned and strained to listen.  A smile appeared on her face as she turned her head back and forth.

“Listen,” She said.  “To the sounds of the night.  The birds chirping,  owls hooting  and even the crickets.”

“Yes the sounds of the night are beautiful.”  John answered.  “It is a shame that you cannot appreciate the beauty of nature at night until after you die.”

Lynn stared at John confused.  “What of the day?”  She asked.  “Can we hear the beauty  of nature during the day?”

“We can, but not as well.  We have to merge with our bodies during the day.”

“Why?”

“Because of the sun’s rays.  The sun’s rays do not let us, those who have passed  to

form as we can now during the dark of night.”

“So we can only form a substance at night.”  Lynn said.  “I guess that explains ghost sightings mostly at night, without sunlight.”

“Yes, that about explains it.”

“What happens when the sun rises?”  Lyn asked hopefully.

“You will merge back with your body below” John said gesturing to the ground beneath their feet.

Lynn was lost in thought and John let her come to grips with her new identity and being.  He remembered well,  when he first crossed over to the new consciousness.  He remembered the confusion, bewilderment and fear.  After he died, he felt this uncontrollable urge to follow his body home and witness his own funeral.  The home of his birth, family, friends and the home of his childhood, that he remembered vividly.  Then  he thought of Lynn.   The white orb of the moon shown brightly through the trees and the stars seemed to sparkle.  The stillness of the night sounds was  interrupted by the screeching and squealing of car tires on the nearby road.

Finally after what to Lynn seemed like hours, Lynn thought.  “I think the sun is coming up.  What happens now?”

“The mind wants to survive and your essence will merge with what it is most

comfortable.”

“And that is?  And how do I do that?”

“You need to do nothing.  It happens naturally to assure your survival.”

As the sun started to peek over the horizon,  Lynn saw John’s essence spin slowly into

earth.  Then she started to feel her essence start to merge with her body.

July 25, 1:00 a.m..

A mist from John’s grave started to spin and form the image of John.  When John’s image fully materialized, he turned and saw the image of Lynn floating over the ground with her head in her hands, sobbing.

“I haven’t seen you for several nights.”  John said.  “I thought maybe you  ascended to the next level.”

Looking up Lynn replied.  “No, I have been doing what you taught and I tried to zero and focus in on the thoughts of my family.”

“What have you learned?”  John asked.

“The whole family is still very upset.  My father is having a tough time concentrating at work.  My mother wakes up every morning crying, thinking of the blissful times when I was just a  child.  My little brother is still trying to find a way of coping with my absence.  My older brother can’t help about thinking of the times he helped.  Especially those times when I was having a tough go of it.  Mark is also having a tough time at his job, where he is a foreman.  He snaps at  people for silly mistakes they make on the job.  He never loses it with his workers.  He

is the most even-tempered boss anyone could ever have.  I think my  . . .  death  . . .  is having a tremendous effect on him.  In a negative way.  I feel so guilty because I died and I feel helpless to

do anything to help my family.”  Lynn’s head fell back to her hands and she started sobbing

again.

John’s image glided over to Lynn.  He reached down to her shoulder and tried to

comfort her.

“You can comfort them, Lynn.”

“How?”  She asked looking up to John.

“It is really quite simple.”  John assured her.  “Just zero in and focus on one in your family, while they are asleep, like I taught you.”  John continued.  “While they dream let an image of yourself become visible in the dream.  Make sure it is an image they will recognize.  With this image you can assure them you are well.”

Lynn smiled.  “I like that.  I will try that,  now.  They must all be asleep.”  The image of Lynn faded into the earth.

July 26 7:00 a.m. Marks Bedroom

Mark snapped awake at the sound of his alarm clock.  Reaching to the bed stand he

lightly tapped the OFF button.  Stretching his arms over his head, a smile formed on his lips as he remembered the remnants of a dream.  He remembered seeing his sister, Lynn.  They were

together in the apple orchard on the hill above their home and they were talking under an apple

tree.  They had both grabbed an apple, enjoying the delicious fruit.  Mark remembered he was

wearing the tidied T-shirt Lynn had made for him and he still kept as a treasured reminder of her.  They were both wearing frayed bell bottoms.  Mark remembered the suede jacket Lynn always

liked.  It was tan colored with fringes under the arms.  But more importantly he remembered her words.  “Mark,” She said.  “I am all right.  I am fine.”

He felt so happy, he was ready to face a new day with a vigor he had not felt for two weeks.  “Lynn.”  Mark murmured to himself.  “We were always there for each other and I know you are here for me.”

Lynn felt happiness when she felt and heard Mark’s words and love.

July 26 Midnight

Lynn waited patiently for John to appear, but she felt restless and glided to the edge of the cemetery grounds and stayed there looking across the street toward the Modena Corners pub.  She heard the gay laughter and music from the pub.  And would have stayed there ‘till closing, enjoying the life and laughter of the people.  She would have stayed if John hadn’t spoken.

“Lynn,” He said.  “It is not a good idea to be here.”

“Why not?”  Lynn asked turning to the image of John.

“Because, if a car goes by and the driver sees your ethereal presence it might cause the

driver to crash and I don’t think that a needless death,  will rest too well on your mind. “

“You are right of course.”  Lynn answered.  “But I am getting tired of talking over my

grave.  I need something different.”

“Okay,”   John  motioned.  “Follow me.”

They both glided over to a far edge of trees that bordered the northern end of the

cemetery.  They found individual branches that were blown down and seemed to sit on them,

when, in reality they just floated over them.

“Okay,” John said.  “Are you ready to learn now of your new existence?”

“How will I learn?”  Lynn asked.

“By experience and asking questions.”

“Right.  So I spend eternity here?”

“No you will stay here as long as it takes until you are ready to ascend to the next level.”

“You keep talking about the next level.”  Lynn said.  “How will I know when I am ready to go to the next level?”

“You will feel it internally and the next level will call to you.”

“So I spend eternity there?”

“No.  There are more levels to the collective consciousness of God.”

“How many levels?”  Lynn asked.

“I have learned there may be  three, maybe five, maybe more.”

“You mean, like Dante’s Divine Comedy?”

John chuckled.  “Yeah.  I guess something like that.”

Lynn paused, staring at the star sparkled sky.  “It has been five years since

you crossed over.  Why haven’t you ascended to the next level?”  She asked.

John thought before speaking.   “I guess I feel drawn to helping others who

have passed.  Understand?”

“Yeah,  I think so.”  Lynn stared into the trees and asked.  “Does everyone go through this

process?  I mean everyone like Hitler, the Nazis, Stalin and other mass murders?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?”  Lynn asked,  annoyed.

“Yes, they cross over to our current existence, but they can never advance to the next level.”

“So they are stuck in this existence as we are currently?”

“No.  Every being  here that has crossed over,  requires the energy of all others who have passed.  And we are rather miserly about it.  We will not share energy with those who have caused needless deaths and suffering.”

“Share energy?”  Lynn questioned.

“Yes.  No one who has passed can exist without the sharing of our individual energies.”

“What you are telling me,”  Lynn started.  “They die once and then die again.  Snuffed out.”

John chuckled.  “The term you used ‘snuffed out’ is a most accurate description.”

Lynn looked questionably at John and John seeing the confused look, explained.  “I say

snuffed out because the being’s slowly lose their self energy and self image.  They know.”  He

continued.  “They are about lapse into nothing.”

“How long does this last?”  Lynn asked, intrigued.

“It can last a few weeks to many years, depending on how long they spend in the ethereal state of being at night.”

“Why the different time spans?”

“If a spirit in mortal form, committed a rather heinous crime against humanity, we might

share our energy with this spirit.  But only to prolong the agony of the spirit.  The spirit  knows, he or she will evaporate to nothing because of our collective will.”

July 27  Midnight – James Morgan

James Morgan was a radio personality, known for his criticism of everyone, including teens,  the elderly, immigrants and people in government, is a new soul to the cemetery.  He died in a car accident when he thought he was inconvenienced by a slow-moving truck laboring up a long two lane highway hill.  Thinking he had the power to pass this inconvenience, he floored the accelerator.  He didn’t make a successful pass.

He learned of his new existence, the after life, in which he now existed and what he needed to continue to exist.  He learned of the need of shared energy from his communication with other willing spirits, of  which there were just a few.

James Morgan meets with John and Lynn. He is in a desperate state. Knowing John’s history, he starts to brag how he supported the war in Vietnam.

“I hated it and it killed me.”  John says.

“You were probably one of those prospective border jumpers to Canada,  to avoid the

draft and you just got caught.  Your death was probably just retribution for not supporting the good U.S. cause.”  Morgan said smugly.

“I enlisted.”  John retorts,  adding.  “Into the Marines  . . .  Semper Fi.”

Morgan turns to Lynn and asks.  “And you?”

Lynn stares at Morgan.  “Yeah, I protested against that cursed war.”

“Okay,” Morgan starts.  “So the two you respect life.  What about the after life?”

“Of course!”  John and Lynn almost shouted in unison.

“Then, how about sharing your energy with me so I can continue to exist?”  Morgan

pleads.

“We’re sorry.” John says.  “It is a collective decision and no one or two people can make it without consulting with the collective will.”

“Can you influence anyone to my favor?”  Morgan implores.

“We could try, but there are many souls here like Jose, that you railed against when you lived.  How do you think they will respond?”

“Hey, that was real life.  This is the after life.  What would Jesus say?”

“Jesus?”  John laughed.  “When you lived, you claimed to be an adherent to the bible.”

“Yes, I was and still am a believer in the bible.”

“Then you should know that Jesus said.  It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of

a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

“So I can’t enter the kingdom of God because I was rich?  Is that what you are saying?”

“Not only rich, but hateful and greedy.  You didn’t want to share.  Your greed and others

like you who didn’t and wouldn’t share,  helped to produce the slums and poverty that exist today. I believe it was the attitude of yourself and those like you that Jesus was referring.”

“So I am condemned to maintain my existence here with what shared energy is

available?”

“It would appear so.”

“Can the two of you share with me?”

“We could, if we desired, but you would only get maybe one or two additional nights”

“So I am condemned to hell?”

“No, condemned to nothing.”

The Collective Decision.

It is a few minutes past dawn and all the resting souls  are not at rest.  They have to make a decision about James Morgan.

“Are you sure, John, that this Morgan character cannot be a witness to our proceedings?”  One soul asked.

“We have done it countless times before.”  John answers.  “Just filter your thoughts to all

present and away from Mr. Morgan.”

Lynn is at rest, thinking of Morgan and the upcoming decision, she feels John calling.

“Lynn?”  He says. “We are ready to decide.”

“I don’t know if I can.”  Lynn responds

“Then just listen and add your own input as you feel is necessary.” John says and

continues.  “Are we all ready for the decision?”

“May I speak first?”  A voice unknown to Lynn asks.

“Yes, Isabella, proceed.”  John answers.

“I am Isabella, not everyone here knows me.   I tried to work full time to raise my three little children, who are now in foster homes.”

Lynn could feel her sobs and pain.

“Continue.”  John urged.

“I first came from Mexico for better wages, but found greater poverty.    After I had my three children, my American husband left me for a much younger woman.  At first I had to rely on welfare for my family.  Does anyone believe I wanted welfare?”  Isabella sobbed.  “It was degrading.  I died last year in an accident at the factory where I was forced to work to support my children.”

“Think of your children.”  John soothed.

“When I heard Mr. Morgan on the radio, I couldn’t believe my ears.  He claimed we  immigrants, legal and otherwise, were raping the government of money.  Yet, he bragged how he avoided paying taxes through barely legal loopholes in the tax code.  Tell me?”  She implored.  “Who raped the government more?  My children and I who barely scrapped by on $7,000 per year or James Morgan who bragged about saving  $10,000 through a barely legal tax loophole on an income of more than $150,000?”

Jose added.   “You are right Isabella.  I was lured to work the farms of this country,

because no adult Americans would take the jobs at such low pay.  This Morgan character seemed

to always rant and rave against those of  Spanish descent.  I remember how he insisted that, Chavez,  who tried to unionize the farm workers in California, was a communist plant.

“I’ll share with Morgan what he shared with me, when we both lived.  Nothing,  absolutely nothing.”

“People.”  John said after hours of comments from all who had crossed over.  “We should hear from our newest resident.  Lynn?”

Lynn hesitated,  “Yes,  I have heard all say how evil James Morgan was as a mortal.  And I agree.  I also heard  him on the radio,  but I can’t be party to the pain of another.”

“James Morgan will feel no pain.”  John assured Lynn.  “He will simply cease to exist.”

Lynn thought and said.  “Why do we not torment him by saying we will share our energy   as a form of welfare?”

“I like that!”  Isabella and Jose almost shouted.

“Yes.”  John conceded.  “That would be a bigger torment.  And he has to realize that he will never be called to the next level.”

“I like it also.”  Lynn answered.  “It will cause him no physical or mental pain other than

what he caused himself before he crossed over.”

Morgan Learns of the Collective Decision.

“When will I be called to the next level?”  James Morgan asked John.

“No one knows.  The decision is purely the decision of the souls already there.”

“Well I should be called soon,  because I was a God-fearing Christian.”

“God is not to be feared.”  John answered.

Five nights later.

Lynn wrestled from rest and felt and saw John by her plot.

“I cannot sense Morgan.”  Lynn calls to John.

“He faded to nothing during the day.”

“He’s gone?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He could not accept that God did not want him in His kingdom.”

Lynn thought for a moment.  “I guess that was an easy way out for him.  At least we are rid of his holier than thou arrogance.”

“There will be others.”  John said.

“Others?”  Lynn asked.

“Yes, I don’t know how many I have encountered in my five short years since I crossed

over, but there have been many with much the same attitude as Mr. Morgan.”

Lynn floated away from John,  circling the cemetery.  She hid behind a tree and stared at the pub across the street.  John watched and joined her.

Lynn looks up to John and says.  “I feel a sensation of being pulled.”

John nods.  “Yes, you are being called to ascend to the next level.”

“Why?”  Lynn questions.  “There are others here that have been in this state longer than I,  yet they haven’t ascended.  Why am I being called so soon?”

“Who Knows?  Only those above, know.”  John gestures to the heavens.

“I wasn’t perfect in my mortal life.  In fact,  I rebelled against everything.  Considering this, shouldn’t I have to spend a little more time in this purgatorial state?”

“We have all made errors in our mortal lives.  But I sense the souls on the next level were impressed with how you strove and wanted to help other people when you lived.  That is very important to them”

Lynn stares at the corner pub and says.  “So I spend some time at each level, then ascend to the next, the next, the next  and so on?”

“Yes that is about it.  Except that there may be thousands upon thousands of levels.  There may even be an infinite number of levels to reach the collective consciousness of God.”

“Infinite?”

“Not to worry.”  John assures Lynn.  “Time  means little to those who have crossed over.  And will have less meaning with each successive level.”

“You seem to know a great deal about the upper levels.”  Lynn said.  “How so?”

John smiled.  “You might say I have a direct line to the collective consciousness.  Sort of like the presidential Red Phone to the Soviet Union.”

“How?”  Lynn asks.

John shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I just do.”

“So, what am I supposed to do now?”  Lynn asked.

“Do nothing.  Everything happens according to a preconceived plan.  Just wait patiently.”

After a few minutes, Lynn turned to  John and said.  “I think I am ready.”

“Yes I think you are ready to ascend to the next level.”

“Will it be as lovely there as it is here at night?”  Lynn asked.

“It will be as you envision it to be.”  John assured her.

“I am ready.”  Lynn prayed as she looked to the stars. A brilliant light from the heavens appeared to swallow her and her image floated with the light to the stars, the next level. She looked up and saw beauty, peace and images of family and friends beckoning her.

Lynn. . . felt alive, happy and at peace.