When I entered the room, I was greeted with a chilly gust of air. I checked the thermostat next to the door. The room was a toasty 74 degrees. 

I ran my fingers down the paint streaks on the wall, feeling sharp pains in my back and stomach. A warm feeling down my legs followed. It was so heavy I had to look down several times, even though I knew there was nothing there. Your mother later said that the bullets hit you in those places. 

As I walked through the room, the air shifted with my movements. You were there, guiding me through what I was seeing. Several times I would feel weak, my eyes would get heavy. Each step became so heavy I stopped and leaned against a wall to regain my composure.

This is how you left this world.

I sat down on the floor, feeling what you felt for 18 long minutes. As I regained my composure, I worked my way out of the room, repeating the words I say to each soul I encounter: 

Thank you for allowing me to communicate this to your loved one. I will relay what I experienced to your loved one in a manner that provides both the truth and closure. Peace and blessings to you on your journey.