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The last six months of his life, my husband was almost 
bedridden. Almost I say, it was an effort to get him up, 
sit him on his wheelchair and take him outside for some air.
He was able to get out of bed. Towards the last month, he 
slept a lot,barely ate,sat up in bed but could hardly get 
out of bed.I knew the end was near.

I was reviewing my journal entry on Eric's condition. I came 
across this entry.I remember this vividly- of all the 
"happenings" that we witnessed and shared during his illness, 
this sticks in my mind.

Here's how it unfolded: August 27, 2007

I was alarmed at noon when Eric started to get very restless. 
He complained of being very cold. It was a warm and sunny 
day outside. He started to whimper about what he was seeing. 
I knew he was traveling in another world. He started by saying 
he was very scared. 

He begged me not to let him go to hell. I asked him to 
describe what he was seeing. At first, he said he didn't want 
to talk about it.It was so horrible. But- I begged him to 
share with me what he was going through as I held his hand.

Someone asked him to come into a room. He described 
sitting in the corner in a dark and cold room, all alone. 
Then he saw people whose faces he can hardly see. Everyone 
was passing him by. The faces were without any expression, 
heads slightly turned upwards, and he thought they were so 
close together, all moving to one direction but they never 
even took a look at him. They were all in dark clothes. They 
didn't notice him. 

He felt very ignored. He sat for a long time- seems like a 
long time for him, trying to look for a way out. He froze 
in his seat for a while, then he was able to escape from 
the cold room.

He headed for the only door in the room. He was in tears 
and kept asking me not to let him go to hell. I think he 
thought he was in hell.But there were no crying out for help, 
no moans or whimpers. It was a dark and cold place. I asked 
if he could see fire, no, there was no fire.

Then he starts to cry for help, for me not to leave him 
alone. I asked him what he can see on his way out of 
the cold room. He saw a high gate on the far right side 
of the door. He can not see beyond but what caught his 
attention are the gate handles that looked like big frying 
pans. He thought they were made of gold. The handles 
glistened in the dark.

It was dark beyond the gate. He knew better than to head 
for that gate. He was so scared.

At this point, I asked him to pray the Lord's Prayer with 
me. He asked me to pray it again with him three times. 
I quickly reached for the holy water, my rosary and lit 
some incense and candles.

Eric came back to earth crying as I held his hand. He 
didn't want to eat but he was so thirsty. He was able 
to sleep for an hour mid-afternoon. He drifts back and 
forth between sleep and waking, making sure I was 
sitting beside him.

I knew this episode did not mean that Eric was dying 
shortly. It will take time for me to help him find peace 
and forgiveness, forgive what needed to be forgiven and 
to surrender his deep pain to God. 
 
He passed  away six months after this episode. He was 
traveling between "two worlds" during these months. I
am confident that he was at peace when his time came.

I stayed close to Eric, he felt very insecure when I was not
near. I was lucky to get help from the Community Access
Center who provided health care aid for those who needed
it in the area. It was a great help to me. There were times
I had to leave Eric to buy groceries and do some shopping, 
or just have a respite time from taking care of him. I felt 
comfortable leaving him with the PSW (Public Support Worker).

Now and then, Eric would sense a "presence." This did not
surprise me. We both believe in spirits. There are times
I hear him talking to his deceased brother and step- mother.
Both he loved dearly.

I was with him through all these episodes, I can feel and 
almost see what he sees. In retrospect, I feel grateful 
that he was able to share these with me.








                                

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