Death is a taboo that, even today, many choose to be silent about. Growing up, I went to many funerals and saw firsthand the grief and sorrow that Death represents. The irony of being exposed to Death is central to my life. Here, I will discuss my own experiences with Death when I was a newborn as well as when I passed again in 2009.

In the mid-60s, I was born “normal,” just severely jaundiced due to being in a major car crash in utero. Because of this, I needed to have a blood transfusion at a week old (seven days old). During the transfusion, I had a stroke, which was later found to be in my brain’s Cerebral Cortex just shy of the brain stem.

According to the doctors, I was “black, stiff and dead.” Rigor mortis had set in. My parents were told, “If you believe in God, you better pray because she needs a miracle.” My Mom went out to the family car and prayed, “God if she's not going to live for You, take her now. If she is, heal her.”

When my Mom came back into the hospital waiting room from the car, a doctor, from before, came rushing back in. He told my parents, “We don't know what happened. One minute she was dead; now, she's pink and moving.” My first picture shows me with my eyes wide open but with black lower legs and feet and black lower arms and hands.

According to the attending nurse, as soon as the doctor began the procedure, I died. My parents ignored her when she told them that “the doctor malpracticed on your daughter. Hire an attorney.” Later, I would find out that if a person has a negative blood type, such as the A- that I and my sister have, and are given incompatible blood that will cause death.

Because of the botched procedure and subsequent death, I was in the 60s version of the NICU for a month. 

Once I was released, my pediatrician told my parents, “It's just slight paralysis. Make her do things to keep her out of a wheelchair. Ignore her when she complains of pain.” Instead of diagnosing me correctly with Cerebral Palsy, my pediatrician downplayed my condition. And, that is what my parents did as well. 

Because of my left side being affected by the stroke, my limp was attributed to it when, in actuality, I was born with my left leg ¾ of an inch shorter than my right leg. I was placed in steel leg braces and special shoes because of it. But, I was taken out of them at the age of 5 so that intermittent casts could be placed, which ate through my ankle. 

Fast forward to the summer of 2009. My kids and I were rushing to get to Walmart on a rainy Sunday. I hopped out of my 1996 Buick Roadmaster Estate Wagon and sliced my leg on the corner of the door. I didn't know that that incident would impact my life again.

Once I discovered how badly I had cut myself, I tried to keep it as clean as possible, but to no avail. It eventually turned septic and it became inflamed, red and infected. I became physically ill at work and went back to where I was renting.

I anointed the wound with oil and prayed. I physically saw Jesus heal the wound and infection right before my eyes. Because I had no insurance, I could not afford to go to the doctor or the hospital. Little did i know that I would be visited by Death the day after my son's 14th birthday.

That day was like any other: I worked all day and went back to the room that I rented. I ate and took a shower. I watched TV for a bit until I got sleepy. And then, I laid down on the bed…

I immediately felt a sharp pain, like a sting, in my right eye. Then, I felt the blood rush over my brain. Needless to say, I was freaking out wondering about what had just happened.

Then, I felt my heartbeat go down to nothing. My breathing soon followed the path that my heartbeat had gone. I thought, “So, this is what dying feels like,” since, in my first death, I was too young to remember it.

I closed my eyes physically and I was immediately enveloped in a dark, black existence outside of my body. I didn't see my body or my surroundings beneath me. But I knew that I was not Earth-bound any longer.

As I was looking around, in my true form, I was freaking out about the fact that I couldn't breathe. Surrounding me, the deep, loving male voice of Jesus told me, “Stop breathing, Jody. You don't need to breathe anymore.” So, I stopped breathing.

As soon as I stopped breathing, I felt such relief. I knew that I was dead and was in the warmth, love and peace of the Lord. I was still puzzled as to why I was in the dark blackness. 

I now believe that I was physically in the dark cloak of Death. I gave myself over to the wonderful sleep of Death and just felt myself floating higher and away from all the trials, trauma and travails of this mortality that seem so important, but, in actuality, none of it is.

I don't know how much later it was, since time isn't important in Death. I remember that I was floating and sleeping and then my eyes flew open. I was standing in brightness. But I was transfixed on who was standing in front of me…

My Dad, who had passed 6+ years previously, was standing before me. He was healthy again and looked like I remembered from my childhood. He was holding out his hand to welcome me Home. Instead of taking his outstretched hand, I immediately said, “No.” 

In that instant, I felt myself gently re-enter my dead body that was on the bed in the rented room where I stayed. I felt my heartbeat start again and my breathing kicked in. I felt my deceased body un-swell and begin to function again. Then, I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up and my prayer was simple: “Jesus, don't make me regret this.” I got ready for the day. I worked a full 8 hours without anyone knowing that I had died the night before. Ten days later, I began my MLA program, and I found out that my niece had died, at 24, from Swine Flu.

Eventually, I told my children about my second death. They cried with me. I knew then why I had told Daddy, “No.” It was because I couldn't leave my children. I knew that they still needed me.

Today, I still have the scar from the cast when I was younger. I graduated with my graduate degree in 2012 and had a better GPA with it than my Magna Cum Laude batchelor's degree. I was able to walk my eldest down the aisle and to see my youngest become an HVAC tech. Luckily, after 54 years, I have been placed back in leg braces and special shoes to help me stay mobile! 

Death’s cloak is truly dark and black. Yet, Death is not the end of our existence. Instead, Death is the door to the real world beyond this imitation that is called Life. Death truly is the best sleep that I have ever had!

I'm truly blessed to have died twice and lived! There is a wonderful existence just waiting on us on the other side that is full of life, love, peace, joy and adventure with all who have gone before us and God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit!