On the man shaking in the chapel

 The content of the Friday prayer preach was on death. Given by a dear friend of mine, in the Gosford Hospital chapel, which is reserved for Friday prayers every 1.30 in the afternoon.

The text which he whizzed through was brief, cut short with the lunch time period in mind. It discussed the ever so popular topic of the questions you get asked by the angles in your grave upon your death and burial, the answer to them and the consequences of your answers on your conditions in limbo land.

For the 3 of us (half) listening to the talk, it was rather simply just a talk, a reminder that slightly tapped our souls for that period of time, bound to be forgotten upon seeing the patient waiting in the ED or the medication charts that need to be redone. A good reminder nonetheless.

After finishing the prayers, I was adamant on getting out of the chapel as quickly as possible, as I had a tutorial scheduled at two o'clock. After greeting the angels on both my shoulders, I quickly got up, stuffed my feet into my shoes and headed to the door.

I half-stormed out, nearly got to the exit when I saw a man, sitting in the chair in the furthermost corner of the chapel, slightly graying hair, in a hospital gown with a navy fleece jumper on top. He was looking down and was shaking. Visibly, coarsely shaking in his chair. I thought he must've just been there to pray, and so I thought I'll just slip in front of him in silence. When I was about to exit the chapel, he looked up, gave me the best smile he could've mustered and without prompt, he said "Sorry, I'm just here to thank God. I just had a near death experience a week ago. I died and the doctors brought me back again. Its like God doesn’t want me yet, I still have things to do here. I'm sorry, I didn’t know about this (the reserved chapel for Friday prayers).Its interesting, we're both from different religions but...."

I stood still in the doorway, one hand holding the door open,  the other not knowing what to do, caught dead in thin air. This guy has been listening to the preach. He listened, and was molested. Molested by the words, touched inside so deep, he was shaking from it.

How I wish I could have stayed with him and hear his story, my heart screamed "screw the tute! This guy needs someone to talk to"  but my head whispered "I'm late for tute, I should just say something brief and go". In the end, as always, my head got his way. I gently touched his elbow which he held close to his body, like hugging a long lost friend, and said "you take care" and went out.

The conversation had me thinking a bit while walking to tute. The gravity of his words was colossal. "I still have things to do here".

That had me thinking. When was the last time I shook at the thought of dying with my work here unfulfilled?

I wish I could elaborate more on this, but the medical course awaits. However reader dear, know that this post shall be tended to again sometime in the future. I just thought that it's been a while since I posted an entry, so this half boiled excuse on an entry shall have to do for the time.

Until I get to continue on this post, lets just all  think about what things we have to do in this world and what are our efforts at them. Not many of us are as lucky to learn the lesson of purpose through death and rebirth, but most of us are lucky enough to learn it through the experience of others. 

 "Its like God doesn’t want me yet, I still have things to do here" (The man shaking in the chapel, 2011)

You take care

Azfar