Death and Dying-And Life After Death

The day started out like any other. Slightly groggy, downing my coffee, shower, dress and off to get water.
I lived in the desert, In a place where you do everything yourself. Water, Electricity, Sewage. Everything.
A far cry from city life, though with time you grow and learn and conquer.
You become self-sufficient in a way which most people would never understand. You hear about power failures and floods. Read about street crime. Then satisfactorily think-Not me.
But you still need money, that's one thing that you can only get from others. Ways to earn an income in the vast oceans of sand and heat and sun are difficult to find. But there are old people. Castoffs from society, poor, some illiterate but life sponsored by the State. They get a check and government benefits. One of these benefits is home care. Help with shopping, trips to the doctor, cooking, cleaning, and most of all companionship.
Dry Gultch as he liked to be known, was my friend for 17 years. He had a run in with a fellow desert rat and was imprisoned for 6 years at the age of 59. Shot the man in the leg for pulling a weapon on him. Shouldn't have gone to jail, but did. He didn't deal with prison well, he was used to the outdoors. When he was released his health was not really good. His hands shook and he started suffering the ailments of old age. So I agreed to let him live nearby with me and I became his home care helper.
It was a satisfactory symbiosis for both of us. I got money and he got help.
After a while his health started to take a decline, trips to the doctor started becoming frequent. He was told he had a thyroid problem and given more pills.
I walked by his door to retrieve the week's supply of water, he was sitting in his red chair reading, as usual, I looked through the screen door at him and said I'm off to get water, I'll be back soon. "Ok," he replied and smiled.
I got into the truck and started off towards town, thinking boy he smiled at me-he hardly ever smiles. I filled up the tanks came home, and unloaded. Walking back to my place I passed his door and he was gone. I peeked in to check on him and he was in bed asleep. So I went back to my place and read awhile, then some computer stuff and went to nap.
I woke up around 4pm and thought I better start dinner. So I walked over to Gultchs place peeked in and he was still in bed. I thought this odd and came in to wake him. I Loudly said they wake up its dinner time-nothing. I went to give him a shake and when I touched him realized he was hard as a rock. He was dead. At first, I was in shock My friend was dead, what would I do.
After a little while, I realized I had to go call the paramedics and coroner. They arrived and confirmed he had passed on. They asked me what time I thought he died. I said well I saw him this morning sitting in his chair and spoke to him so it had to be after 10am sometime.
I was informed that was impossible. The rigamortis was far to advanced and that he had to have died sometime the night before. I was shocked. I looked at them and said but I talked to him this morning! He smiled at me and said ok.
After they loaded his body into there vehicle I started to cry, it was an overwhelming response. I couldn't control it. I had never grieved before.
The coroner came out and looked at me with pity in his eyes, looked off into the beautiful expanse I laughingly called my 50-mile backyard and said, "it sure is a beautiful view here Gary". Then left.
Until this time I have had doubts about a life hereafter. But upon reflection, I realized my friend waited in his usual place where he knew he would see me.
His message-Its ok Gary, there is something later, I'm happy and OK.
This is not logical, it is a message of hope, one that only my friend could leave.
Merry Christmas
Gary