[Editor's Note: Jack Grisham is an author, hypnotherapist, T.S.O.L. front man and all-around troublemaker. This column, True Story, may or may not be factual, with characters who may or may not be real.]
"So, you see, Jim, that while your wife is dead in this world, she exists in a universe parallel to our own. She still lives."
Jim sat still on the sofa, his right hand nervously stroking his temple, then his cheek–his attempt to hold in the tears.
"But I can't touch her," he said. "I can't hold her, smell the cigarettes in her hair. You know, she'd tell me she hadn't smoked, tried to hide it from me, but then I'd pull her close, tackle her onto the bed, and I could smell the scent in her hair. She constantly lied to me."
He managed a weak smile with trembling lip and dropped his effort to be strong.
"I miss her," he said. "I've tried to move on, but I can't. I have this feeling that she's still here, in the next room or late home from work, but she's not gone. There has to be a way to reach her."
The doctor lowered the lights in the room.
"Jim, the universe is created of spheres–countless spheres, or worlds, each one creating another, on into infinity–and the soul, or consciousness, creates matter: your wife and yourself exist on many different levels. And if you are willing and open to receive her, I think I might be able to help you shift into a parallel world and reunite you with your wife. Is that something you'd want to do?"
"Are you kidding?" Jim said. "Yes, I wish it with all my heart."
"Okay, then, I want you to lie back, close your eyes and think of a time when there was a conflict in your lives."
"What," he said, "a conflict?" Jim sat up on the sofa. "I don't want to think of the bad. I want to think of the good–of a kiss, her laughter."
"Jim, in times of conflict, there is always an expansion of energy. Have you ever heard of a fork in the road–two or more different pathways emerging from a single event?"
Jim nodded his head.
"Well, I'm going to take you back to that event, and instead of following the path you took, you're going to move in another direction, and your consciousness will shift into that alternate world–a world in which your wife doesn't take her own life but seeks help and lives. Now tell me of a time."
It hurt to talk about it, but there was an instance when Jim caught his wife in an affair–she tearfully admitted her wrongdoing, and they had started rebuilding.
"All right, now," the doctor said. "Close your eyes and listen to my count. Feel yourself drifting backward, floating toward that day."
Jim could see it. He could smell the scent of her perfume. He woke and looked directly into his wife's eyes. He was there. She lived.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too, Jim," she replied, "but I'm leaving you for Michael."