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It was my turn to have five minutes with my brother Paul in the operating recovery room. He lay there drifting in the hazy space between worlds, slipping in and out of consciousness. My heart broke at the sight of him: the eight-inch trail of stitches carved across his scalp where his hair used to be. Looking at him, I felt the full weight of what he had been through in the past weeks, all of it leading to this moment, after seven hours of surgery to cut the cancer from his brain.
The man in that bed was a shadow of the person the world knew. At thirty five, Paul was the President of The Gypsy Jokers Motorcycle Club of South Africa. A figure of authority who often walked with a loaded .44 Magnum at his hip. He was used to the weight of his 'colours' with its skull emblem but here, stripped of his leather and his steel, he looked impossibly fragile.
The steady, rhythmic beep of the monitors was the only sound in the room. Paul lay there bare chested, his powerful frame crisscrossed by a web of wires that tethered him to the machines. I sat beside him and took his hand in mine. "Paul, it's Gay" I whispered, as I kissed his forehead.
Paul's lips moved, a faint murmur I couldn't quite catch. I leaned in, my ear inches from his face, and asked him to say it again. The words he whispered next would change the course of my life forever.
"I just walked with Jesus" my self-proclaimed atheistic brother Paul whispered.
In Eternity Together, I share Paul's remarkable experience and the countless accounts of people who have returned from the brink of death with a message of hope, peace, comfort and the assurance that our spirit lives on.
This book is for anyone who has:
Because perhaps death is not goodbye at all, but the beginning of EternityTogether.
