I am ill and lying on the bed. Pain ensues everything from my skin to my muscles and bone. I am staring at the ceiling, but not really looking at the ceiling. Instead, I am looking over past conversations, events, and thinking of all things unsaid or incomplete. A man enters the room. I hear no footsteps as he walks closer to the bed. He stands by my side for a moment, towering over me. He bends down and ever so gently, puts his left arm beneath my head, cradling my neck. I am not afraid, though he has not spoke one word. His right arm goes beneath my knees and he starts to carefully lift me. The pain is excruciating, yet as he brings me up to his chest, I can hear the slow, calm beat of his large heart. The slow, deep rhythm starts to entrance me and my eyes become too heavy to hold open. I see nothing now, but darkness. The pain begins to subside. As we begin the journey to a destination I am uncertain of, tranquility takes hold of my very being and I drift slowly off to sleep.

As he continues to carry me I am feeling more rested. I start to feel a cool breeze across my cheek and I hear laughter and music in the distance. I open my eyes to see a soft, ominous light that is not too bright, nor too dim enveloping a golden city with with a gate of pearl before it. I am now standing outside of the gate with this man. From here I can see a sea that seems to be made of crystal, because of the clarity and the way it refracts the light. On the other side of the gate, loved ones who have passed on before me are waiting to embrace me. There is laughter and an over-all comfort in seeing them again. I looked at the man who had carried me so far. This man had carried me home.