I Thought I'd Died and Gone to Heaven

I have been looking for this story on this blog but I can’t find it. I’ve searched through the 501 story titles and of course I have no idea what it was called the first time I think I wrote it, so it’s not simple to find. I want to retell the story because it came up the other day.

I ran across Evelyn Myrie, community activist, columnist and a friend at a meeting of Hamilton's Arts Leaders. It says on the web, “Evelyn Myrie lives in Hamilton and is a social development consultant. She is co-chair of the Hamilton Black History Committee and a freelance columnist for the Hamilton Spectator.”

Anyway, Evelyn says she always remembers my story about my thinking that I had died, and she’s told the story to lots of others.

Now, if I can only remember…….

It was a beautiful day in early summer and I felt like doing something reasonably athletic, a feeling I seldom get. I decided to go for a walk, and chose to walk up to Starbucks, get a coffee and come home. There is a food or drink reward involved of course, as it’s for me.

I arrived, stood in a long line, and was looking around a crowded Starbucks when I noticed a table full of people, one of whom was a friend. I waited until I was sure she could see me and I waved. Nothing happened. I tried several more times and finally was embarrassed about the whole event and looked the other way.

I bought a cup of coffee, and quietly left the building. I drank my coffee while wending my way home. As I approached my street, I noticed a neighbor at the mailbox. I waved at her, and she didn’t respond. I waved again, but was too far away and too embarrassed to shout. She never responded.

When I arrived at the mailbox, she was gone and I was feeling weird. Had something happened? Was this s Stephen King dream come true? I was a bit concerned, but decided that I’d go in the house and see what occurs.

I entered my house through the front door and made my way to the family room, in the back, where both of my girls were watching television. Neither one looked up nor responded in any way.

I stopped, looked at everyone gathered and said, quite loudly, “Am I alive! Can you see me?”

The kids looked up at me as if I were a nut case (I was). They looked quizzically in my direction. “Am I here?” I said and they both laughed.

I guess I was alive and well, just unrecognized.

In speaking later on the my friend in Starbucks and the neighbor at the mailbox they both said that they simply never saw me.