I like to believe the heart is like an engine, and beats only a specific number of times.
Mine could only handle 2,664,382,171 and a half beats before it broke down, I was walking down a set of stairs when it stopped, I was expecting the sound of an exhaust coughing smoke and my heart jumping up and down.
I saw a bright white light and a voice was calling me, I walked towards it trying to peek through my fingers but the light was hurting my eyes, the voice kept calling me, Betsy it kept saying. There was only one person that called me by my name, my first husband Joe was standing in the light and about to welcome be into heaven when his brother, and my second husband, Cliff came out of the light and stood next to Joe.
He came to explain there was a mixup and my room in heaven wasn’t ready yet and in the meantime I had to go back down to Earth.
I woke up in the hospital, the doctors tried their best to repair my ‘broken parts’, but there wasn’t a lot to be fixed.
They placed the blame on me, I was the one still living in my flat, refusing to live in a retirement home.
Your joints are rusty, they said, you were walking down the stairs and they got stuck and you fell down, not one, but two sets of stairs, they said.
It was alright, I knew I was going to a great place when the time was right.
After I got home from being in the hospital for two weeks I found my kin packing all my belongings into cardboard boxes.
Boxes that once contained exotic fruits and candy bars now contained things I had collected during my life time, they were like small anchors attached to my memories.
A couple days later I found myself sitting in a rocking chair in the shared living room of the retirement home, with elderly couples playing bridge.
It was Hell on Earth and I sat there quietly waiting for my God to take me, days seemed more like years but on the 25th of November I (finally) got ill.
Cancer, they said.
My sons and daughters were standing at both sides of my bed, I knew they meant well but it really felt like they were staring me into the grave.
One by one they said their goodbyes, and my youngest son told me that he was gay, and sorry.
For what I asked, and he told me one of the most nastiest stories I had ever heard, I told him it was fine and hoped he would find love in a man soon.
My time had come knocking on my door, my youngest daughter opened the door and in stepped a tall handsome man, he didn’t speak a word and began measuring the room with a tape measure.
One of my older sons asked the man what he was doing and why he was disturbing his mother’s final moment with her family.
He explained he was hired by the old man next door that wanted to expand his room after I am gone.
Before they could throw the man out of the room my heart started coughing up smoke through its exhaust pipe and I noticed it had been leaking oil all this time, I slowly fell asleep and instantly woke up at a familiar place, it was there in front of me again the bright white light.
I ran towards it and when I was about to step into it my third husband Hank stepped in front of me, he looked as buff as always and I noticed he was holding someone’s hand, I looked next to him and he was holding hands with a man I had never seen before.
He explained he fell in love with him while in heaven, I said I was fine with it and told him our son was gay too.
They held me hand and lead me into heaven, hours later I found myself sitting in a rocking chair with old people sitting around me playing bridge.
I guess there’s not much of a difference between Hell on Earth and Heaven.
Oh, I forgot to tell you that they have a unlimited supply of skittles here and there’s no need for sleeping and you look old but feel like your sixteen again!
Mine could only handle 2,664,382,171 and a half beats before it broke down, I was walking down a set of stairs when it stopped, I was expecting the sound of an exhaust coughing smoke and my heart jumping up and down.
I saw a bright white light and a voice was calling me, I walked towards it trying to peek through my fingers but the light was hurting my eyes, the voice kept calling me, Betsy it kept saying. There was only one person that called me by my name, my first husband Joe was standing in the light and about to welcome be into heaven when his brother, and my second husband, Cliff came out of the light and stood next to Joe.
He came to explain there was a mixup and my room in heaven wasn’t ready yet and in the meantime I had to go back down to Earth.
I woke up in the hospital, the doctors tried their best to repair my ‘broken parts’, but there wasn’t a lot to be fixed.
They placed the blame on me, I was the one still living in my flat, refusing to live in a retirement home.
Your joints are rusty, they said, you were walking down the stairs and they got stuck and you fell down, not one, but two sets of stairs, they said.
It was alright, I knew I was going to a great place when the time was right.
After I got home from being in the hospital for two weeks I found my kin packing all my belongings into cardboard boxes.
Boxes that once contained exotic fruits and candy bars now contained things I had collected during my life time, they were like small anchors attached to my memories.
A couple days later I found myself sitting in a rocking chair in the shared living room of the retirement home, with elderly couples playing bridge.
It was Hell on Earth and I sat there quietly waiting for my God to take me, days seemed more like years but on the 25th of November I (finally) got ill.
Cancer, they said.
My sons and daughters were standing at both sides of my bed, I knew they meant well but it really felt like they were staring me into the grave.
One by one they said their goodbyes, and my youngest son told me that he was gay, and sorry.
For what I asked, and he told me one of the most nastiest stories I had ever heard, I told him it was fine and hoped he would find love in a man soon.
My time had come knocking on my door, my youngest daughter opened the door and in stepped a tall handsome man, he didn’t speak a word and began measuring the room with a tape measure.
One of my older sons asked the man what he was doing and why he was disturbing his mother’s final moment with her family.
He explained he was hired by the old man next door that wanted to expand his room after I am gone.
Before they could throw the man out of the room my heart started coughing up smoke through its exhaust pipe and I noticed it had been leaking oil all this time, I slowly fell asleep and instantly woke up at a familiar place, it was there in front of me again the bright white light.
I ran towards it and when I was about to step into it my third husband Hank stepped in front of me, he looked as buff as always and I noticed he was holding someone’s hand, I looked next to him and he was holding hands with a man I had never seen before.
He explained he fell in love with him while in heaven, I said I was fine with it and told him our son was gay too.
They held me hand and lead me into heaven, hours later I found myself sitting in a rocking chair with old people sitting around me playing bridge.
I guess there’s not much of a difference between Hell on Earth and Heaven.
Oh, I forgot to tell you that they have a unlimited supply of skittles here and there’s no need for sleeping and you look old but feel like your sixteen again!
