March 17, 2008
0200 to 0500,
unsure of the time
“You didn’t
see me. You were working.” Was the quiet accusation of the wiry fourteen year
old boy (5’ 8” or 5’ 9”) that died on the table that was being worked on by five
anesthesiologists.
“I had so much
work” I said, for I was on call.
“You weren’t
looking for me.” He then offered, “I wanted to grow up. I wanted to drive a
car.”
“You are
disappointed.” I gently said. It was his time and we both knew saying anything
more would be useless—he couldn’t go back.
“Are you
coming back? (reincarnating)” I asked.
No. It’s too
early to tell (His opportunity to do so had something to do with his extended
family structure which was unfavorable—we both knew)
“I will come
back to talk.” He pressed on my arm.
Namaste,
Reiki Doc
