While Sally was meeting
the head nurse, Johnny's doctor was making rounds. He had been keeping
close contact with unfolding events in room 1728 of the intensive care
unit.
"Hello Mrs. Barringer,
I'm Dr. Billings. I have been attending to Johnny."
"It's nice to meet
you. I'm unclear about what is happening. Johnny is getting weaker
all the time. I'm afraid we're going to lose him."
"Mrs. Barringer, we've
had major complications. Any one of his ailments is routinely treatable,
but in combination it has created a critical situation. And, I'm afraid
we have never before had this kind of reaction to the heart medication.
We are fighting as hard as we can to save him, but please understand
he may die. I'm sorry."
"Is there any more
that can be done, Doctor? Do we need more opinions?"
"We are doing everything
possible, and I have already consulted with specialists from several other
hospitals. 
No
one has any experience with this combination of factors. We are in uncharted
waters. The possibility of a reaction like this is of course always there.
But the truth is whatever we do, we will be doing for the first time anywhere.
There is a new experimental
drug which we are considering. It's extremely risky and I will need a special
consent form signed by Johnny. I've aready discussed it with Johnny, but
I think the final decision is up to you and him. As for my opinion, I recommend
we do. I'm suposed to be there when he signs it, so I'll wait outside while
you discuss it."
Dr. Billings handed
Sally the form before he waited in the hallyway. Sally approached Johnny
with the form and conversed with her son who was drifting. She laid open
the options and then agreed with the doctor.
Sally was captured
with the utter willingness with which Johnny was ready to sign the form.
He was empty of any fear of death or the consequences. With astonishing
softness and an absolutely pure desire to please. Sally invited the doctor
back in, and Johnny signed as if he wished he could do more to be helpful.
In those moments he had the purest humility and innocence.
As the doctor left,
Sally sensed Johnny had surrendered to the inevitable. He was dying. His
death would be his final healing.
"Johnny," she whispered
as she held his hand and gently smoothed his hair, "What else did Gus tell
you?"
"Something about God
being in the world, not outside it. He said God was more a presence than
a person. He even took it even further when he said this presence was being
born every moment in each of us, and every other living thing."
Johnny did not resist
death. His surrender was so pure, so complete. In gentle astonishment Sally
was saturated with these feelings of acceptance so intensely that she became
them. She glanced at the door and the daylight softly spilled through it
from the windows across the hall.
What Sally saw or experienced
next will likely be doubted by those who have not had a near death experience.
In near death experiences
or in experiences where a person expires and is revived moments later,
many have said they traveled through a tunnel into a light. After
the event they were no longer afraid of dying. Until one has undergone
this, there will always be doubt. It could have been illusion; it could
have been delusion.
In the doorway or in
her mind, she saw as immaculate radiant being. At the time she knew
it was in her mind, but then again it was outside her too, as if she could
actually see it in the doorway. It was 5 or 6 feet high, and glowed much
like a Christmas tree, without the tree. The lights were all white, silver
and gold, dancing. They radiated more than light, they radiated love. It
was holy, as if it had come for Johnny. It was all right.
Sally felt a peaceful
calm envelop her and pervade the entire room. As she sat touching her son,
she could feel through her fingertips love flow between them and around
them, pushing away fear and leaving no room for doubt.
Sally and Timothy spent
the night in the hospital room, alternatively dozing and comforting one
another during the last hours of their son's life. At 4 a.m. Johnny expired
in his sleep.
Sally wailed and Timothy
held her while they shared the abject grief of parents who have lost a
child.
Finally when she had
no more tears, Sally went to her hotel where she put her grief aside and
made arrangements to bring Johnny home to Prescott. There were friends,
and family to be notified. There were the funeral arrangements and the
grave.
When Sally returned
to Prescott she called Gus Meeker, introduced herself as Johnny's mother,
and asked him to say a few words at the service.
Gus said,"I'd be glad
to speak for him. He was one fine boy."
Gus remembered Johnny
and how the young man had reached out to him for answers when they had
met at the hospital. He hoped Johnny had found his.