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I was playing with fiends at summer camp the summer before I turned 7...
Growing up, I was raised in a very restricted environment; close-minded views surrounding me always and family relationships were as thin as paper...
I was participating in a function for a Masonic associated group known as Rainbow for Girls...
On January 5, 1993 my husband to be �T� slipped into a coma and high fever on the way to a doctor's appt...
It was a weekday on the last week of May 1982...
I will like to narrate the background before the experience...
It started out a night like any other weekend night...
Instead of viewing death as simply loss and failure, is it possible that death can actually offer an opportunity for growth...
For years, I was an obnoxiously militant atheist...
Contains sensitive content
It was late at night...
I was four years old...
It was the spring before my 11th birthday...
