After twenty years of being a cancer survivor, my wife, Doris, was down to the last seven days and each time I approached her door, I would pause to prepare myself for what I would discover inside her room. On day one, of our countdown of seven days, I found her completely listless and not quite coherent. As usual I attended to her needs during the day, and then, as night fell, I was relieved by another member of the family.

The next morning I stood outside the door for a little longer period of time. But, even that extra time could not have prepared me for what I found when I entered the room. Doris was sitting up in bed eating her breakfast and feeding herself. More good news followed. The next day she asked for her glasses, saying, "I want to read the newspaper.

When the doctor had the opportunity to observe these unusual events, he could not contain his excitement and began to use such unprofessional words such as "fantastic" and "amazing". He confirmed that she had come back from the threshold of death saying "She has reached a new plateau."

How did this happen? There had been no changes in the medications she had been receiving.  The change had not come from without. The change had come from the sanctuary of the soul where she was alone with God. The dying process had begun but it was met by the energizing force of a deep seated belief that this was not the time for her dying. If the man with the hat, dressed in a three piece suit had been present and had asked the question, "Are you ready to go?" He would have received a resounding, "No, I am not ready to go and when I am, I will let you know."

I can find no other explanation for this dramatic change of circumstances in Doris' life. The changes were obvious to all. From artificial nutrients, she had advanced to solid food and when the doctor told her she could have anything she wanted to eat, without hesitation, she replied, "I want a pizza," and she sent me out to get one. We accepted this turn of events for what it seemed to be - Doris, holding tightly to her lifeline to her soul, was choosing her own time for dying.

Dr. Brian Weiss, in an essay on the "Soul's Legacy," wrote, "My work as a doctor is a daily reminder that we are not our bodies or our brains, but our souls. That is the part of us that is eternal." Somewhere along in her journey, Doris learned that she was not her body nor her brains. She learned that she, the real Doris, was a living soul who inhabited an imperfect body and she knew the difference between the two.

This awareness produced a most interesting and remarkable question that Doris asked during a time when her thinking was clear and her talking coherent. Our neighbor and co-worker in our business for twenty five years was visiting Doris in her hospital room. Kay was asking questions about how Doris was feeling and Doris was giving clear and understandable answers. Then Doris asked a question which neither Kay not I expected to hear. With a quizzical look, as though she had been thinking about for a long period of time, she asked, "What did they do with the Doris they brought into the hospital at the same time I came in?"

It would have been easy to have placed the question in the category of being a hallucination. However, this was a question that required something more than an ordinary, logical answer. The question was an astounding one, metaphysical in nature, and requiring an appropriate answer based upon our awareness of how her connection with her soul had brought her back from her time for dying. This enabled me to answer her question in the same calm, measured tone she used in asking the question. "They are taking care of her," I replied.
"They are giving her the medicine she needs for her illness."

I am not qualified to give an enlightened explanation of Doris' ability to separate the soul from the physical body. However, I do know from personal observation that she was able to do so on more than one occasion. Events that took place when she was not ill nor in the hospital. It is my belief that she stands in a long line of men and women who have achieved the extraordinary ability to make that separation.

September 18th, the day the doctor said she could not live beyond had come and gone. Doris was not only eating pizza, she asked for some popcorn to eat while watching televison.
When the Doctor came by for his next visit, he asked a question we had never expected to hear. "Mrs. Morrison, are you ready to go home?" In our analogy we now come to Round Ten. Doris' remarkable ability to maintain her lifeline to her soul enabled her to decisively win Round Nine. This leads us to Round Ten which is the last round in our championship battle. For twenty years she had survived all the vicious blows her incurable illness could deliver. Although the blows had left her body bruised and broken, her spirit remained unscathed, healthy and whole.

The twenty mile trip home brought our frail but happy patient back into an environment of loving and meaningful memories. She was also coming home at the season of the year that had brought her the most pleasure and enjoyment, and it did not take her long before she began making plans for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. She asked for paper and pen and began writing out the menu for our annual Thanksgiving meal. She asked for the telephone and began calling members of the family to inform about what they were to bring in order to make the meal complete. She was reliving every previous Thanksgiving and making certain that this one would be the best of all.

While giving out various responsibilities to family members, she saved the major one for herself. She said to me,"I want to bake the turkey and make the cornbread dressing just as I have always done!'Although I did not say anything at the time, I knew that it was an impossibility. She did not have the physical strength for such a task. She soon made it clear how the impossible would become possible. She would use her mind and she would use my strength. She would use my hands and my arms and my feet and we would produce the most delectable, juicy and tender turkey ever baked. And we would make the most delicious cornbread dressing ever served to any family on Thanksgiving Day. Her mind and spirit were alive and well and they guided my untrained hands through some complex instructions. The results were outstanding - We did, indeed, prepare the best Thanksgiving meal ever.
The picture I have in my mind of that occasion is still bright and clear. Doris was in her wheelchair seated at the head of the table nearest the kitchen and what happened next will remain with me forever.

(Continued in next issue of the Senior News.)