The God Connection
“So, when you did get to talk with your Professor? Did she get
it?” said MV.
“I don’t really know,” I said, “I’m sure she picked up on my strong
feelings, but that was probably about it. As I found out later, she
had other concerns. All her energy was focused on the affair she was
having with the professor in the next office. Before our class had
even ended, she had filed for divorce from her husband. Before the
year was out, she had totally left the university. But, in all
fairness, I guess you could say that at that time I had preoccupying
“What could possibly be more preoccupying than God?” replied MV.
“Death,” I said. “While I was writing that final paper, I had a
premonition that I was going to die. I hurried the paper I was writing
because I knew time was running out. That was a very strange feeling.”
“A misplaced one, though,” said MV, “or am I missing something?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I replied.
“So, what’s the point? Nothing happened,” MV responded.
“That’s not quite true, something did happen, and my father and I
shared in it.”
“Okay, I’ll bite, shared in what?”
“My father and I weren’t very close,” I replied. “Sure we loved each
other, but when it came to sharing common interests, we were worlds
apart. It’s not absolutely accurate, but in a word, I was the `black
sheep’ of the family. My fear of impending death, however, helped me
overcome those negative feelings, so I went home to say goodbye.”
“Did you have any physical reason to think you were dying?”
“None,” I replied, “I was in perfect health, but that didn’t matter.
I knew I would be dead soon.”
“So, what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” I said. “I took Thursday and Friday off work, and
went home for the long week-end. But on my last day, Sunday, it was just my father and I
alone in the room talking; he told me he admired what I had done. He
was referring to my bicycle trips. Although I am not sure how we got
around to it, we ended up telling each other that we loved one another.
“I had done what I had set out to do, and I felt really good about it.
It was a beautiful day outside, so I decided to go back to Mt.
Pleasant early. Back home, I hopped on my bicycle and took off for
Coldwater Lake, a thirty-mile round-trip bicycle ride. Shortly into the trip, my hand started going numb. That numbness was not unusual for me, but when it
moved up my arm, and beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, I knew
something was wrong. When the left side of my torso got real hot, I
wanted to cut the trip short and head home. But, after a time, all
those symptoms disappeared, so I just kept pedaling. After returning
home, just as I walked through the door, the telephone rang. It was my
mother. My father had died. Apparently, while my mother was at work,
he had sat down in his favorite chair, fell asleep, and never woke up.
The doctor said it was a heart attack.”