after life

She saw it all, when they put her under. And she remembered it, perfectly, when she woke. The light. The calm. The sense of self, true self, real self. She knew who she was and, more importantly, why she was. But why her, she wondered, and the thought bothered her, taxed her, almost obsessed her in the succeeding days. So, she prayed, daily, and usually more, whenever the thought crossed her mind, which was so very often. I need to tell someone, she thought, someone who would understand. But everyone was too busy. And not in ways that seemed frivolous. There were kids to tend and relationships to mend and jobs – real life. So, she finally decided that she would tell no one, at least not for the time being. She would deal with the knowing as though it were her hardship, though ironically, she understood, and with a gentle smile. At times she almost wished she didn’t know. But she did. And maybe it was that the others just would be surprised. And that wasn’t so bad, either.