Peter and Michael
Meeting and enjoying time with spiritual friends can bring all kinds of surprises, and that is how this life was remembered.
I had met a new friend and from the first moment that we met, I just felt like I knew them from somehow, but couldn’t quite place it. As time went on, the feeling grew and grew. Soon we met as often as possible. I thought of her often throughout the day and reminisced on the different topics that we discussed.
Within weeks we were best friends, kind of peas and carrots as they say. She didn’t live by me, so I couldn’t see her as often as I wanted to see her, so anytime together was special to me. The feeling that I knew her from somewhere else, some other time, kept growing stronger and stronger each week.
On this particular day, I was driving us down the street, headed for our favorite Chinese buffet and I had an overwhelming feeling to just say the name Peter! as I was driving. But I held back wondering if I would break the young relationship.
I was very undecided, but as I waited at the stop sign I looked over at her and like a Hollywood movie scene, a face was superimposing over her face. It was the face of a young man. I recognized the young man. I loved the young man. I desperately missed the young man. Both of the faces were staring right at me, and I just blurted out “Peter!”
She calmly said, “No, you are Peter, I am Michael”.
I was stunned and I knew she was right.
I felt it as the creepy crawlies passed over my entire body.
I couldn’t speak. I swallowed and pulled the car over to the side of the road.
I grabbed her and hugged Michael with all my physical and spiritual strength. Peter was utterly mesmerized, and I cried for both Peter and myself, feeling his emotions burst out of me. The crying became a wail of anguish and lost track of time and couldn’t stop. The years of longing for this human being rushed out and I was an emotional wreck.
I found you! I found you!
The face staring back at me was in fact my beloved Michael! I couldn’t catch my breath, as I tried to stop crying.
Instinctively she began holding my hand and patting my shoulder, just as Michael always had. He was smiling with that crooked smile that I loved so much. The pieces in my world came crashing into place. I felt whole, truly whole again for the first time in this life. The vacant voice was gone.
My tears soon became laughter, and we sat looking at each other, my friend and me, Peter and Michael. The universe is truly a miracle and whatever is supposed to happen likely will, in its own time.
We both shared all the reasons that we nearly never met, all the reasons that could have changed things on the day that we met. It was at a friend’s ranch, and I had my family with me, she was in a big rush.
We both thought of canceling, and the chance for a reunion would have been lost. But, we were drawn to go to that place, at that time, for unknown reasons. Well, until today, now we know the reason!
Peter and Michael together again! It was written in the stars!
Over the coming weeks, all of the little details about Peter and Michael began to sprout up in her mind or in my mind, when we were apart. We planned a day for us to go back to the little Chinese buffet and hide in the corner to talk about what was really going on and to share the forgotten memories of our lost time.
But this time instead of sitting quietly and listening to her tell her perspective of a story, it was more of a sharing of perspectives and events of our lives.
We were both orphans, abandoned at the same monastery. We each remembered this.
The year that I’ve always gotten for that time is right at the turn of the millennium the year 999-1000.
It was a Jesuit monastery, and the monks wore black robes with hoods. I remember them so clearly, walking in the dark corridors in the shadowy underground.
Michael had lost his parents, and so he was dropped off by his immediate family, but he never had contact with them again.
As for me, I was a very sickly little kid. Peter was smaller than the rest of the kids. It was hard for him to gain weight or thrive his entire life.
But, together, Peter and Michael clicked and became brothers from different mothers as they say.
We both remembered certain monks that we laughed and talked about. One was a specific older man with a hunch back. We probably tormented the poor soul, playing childish tricks and games.
We both remembered the underground so vividly where the bottom of the monastery was, and how we ran and played hide and seek with the other kids. We could describe the corridors, doors, rooms and openings. We sat and drew a map together on a napkin.
All so very real.
We were both altar boys and assisted with the various religious ceremonies that went on at the monastery.
Peter and Michael became closer and closer as they grew up, Michael was very protective of Peter, always making sure that he was OK, making sure that he ate properly and that none of the bigger kids bullied him or that he didn’t get hurt doing normal things by accident.
He genuinely loved Peter and as they grew up and as time passed, their personal relationship blossomed, and they were usually together. If you were looking for one, you would normally find the other.
The next kind of memory that we both shared was us as teenagers. We were about 15, since we didn’t know our birth dates, but we also didn’t remember a time without the other, so we felt the same age.
Michael was a big, strong healthy lad. He naturally had bigger muscles, and he was very handsome. Peter had given Michael his heart. I could feel Peter’s emotions towards Michael; he was quite in love, so much that it was hard to breathe. When he looked at him, Michael truly took Peter’s breath away. He was Peter’s everything.
Michael loved Peter as well and they looked forward to a long life together. It was around this period of time that they were encouraged to be Jesuit priests.
I had an awareness that we were Gay Jesuit priests and very much in love inspite of the situation. A love that would be unmatched in my other lives and is a highlight in the lives that I remember.
Our daily lives were filled with communion, helping the poor, communal prayers, studying and living pious lives.
Peter was not the one that usually left the monastery to go out into the public. He normally stayed back, and he would wait for Michael to return and share all of the amazing stories of what people were like outside of the monastery.
Michael would often be admonished by the other monks to not brag or to not make it sound like it was a big deal to be outside the monastery or that there was anything very special outside, because they wanted us to mostly stay inside where it was much safer.
When Michael went out he would tell me about meeting this person or that person, going to this place or that place. I always thought he was so amazing. He was so brave, and of all the people he met loved him.
In all of my lives, I loved Michael the deepest. It is an absolutely standout life when talking about love. But Peter had his challenges. He was not a favorite among the other kids or monks.
He was not popular. Some of the other orphan boys still lived at the monastery, while others left to go out into the real world, all making decisions about their own lives and how to live it. The boys that stayed often bullied Peter in Michael’s absence to such a degree that Michael secretly worried about his safety.
One day Michael had to correct an injustice between the remaining boys at the monastery and several of the boys had gotten into trouble. Michael worried about this, and if Michael was worried about it, then definitely Peter was worried about it. They both agreed that they were going to have to be careful and watch each other’s backs.
Oftentimes children or people that needed help would come to the back door of the monastery down in the bottom by the kitchen, they would knock on a big wooden door. This is where different people that were associated with the monastery were allowed to come in and out, deliveries of food and other things would come through inside.
I remember one day there was heavy knocking at the door, Michael answered the door and was asked to come out into the courtyard to help a person that felt that they were wronged.
Michael was considered to be exceedingly fair. He was becoming sort of the law of the land for these young men, and some adults too. Michael always tried to follow the religious text to guide others in the right way, and people appreciated his handling of situations.
On one particular day, Peter had been looking for Michael, and he was wandering around in the underground. There was one specific, long, dark hall that was a favorite place to hide, so he was down in that area looking for Michael and he couldn’t find him.
He continued wandering around trying to figure out where he was and when he might return or get back. Suddenly, one of the younger orphans came running down to the end of the hall and called Peter.
Do you know where Michael is?
Peter said, “no I don’t. Why is there a problem?”
The young kid said, “yes that there are kids at the back door, and they needed assistance.”
Peter had grown up in intellect but physically was still a frail person.
He was thin.
He was sickly.
He was very feminine.
He had a very soft feminine type of voice.
He was obviously gay or randy as it was known back then.
But someone needed help, and they were asking me to help them? I thought. This is very exciting. I can share this with Michael and maybe he will see that I can be a hero too. My eyes were gleaming with pride and excitement when I walked out the door.
I said, “I am ready, I will help you. Let’s go!”
The group of younger boys gathered around, and we started jogging together as we headed for the back of the yard to go out into the alley. More boys joined as we jogged, and the group was growing. Gradually the boys were getting older, but I didn’t realize it. I felt like a very important person as we jogged along with the boys.
I was needed! They wanted my help! I thought about how proud Michael would be as I got further from the monastery. At the end of a long alley, the group turned into a large yard, with stone fencing, there was only one entrance. For a quick moment I thought I would be fine because I fell under the protection of Michael, even in his absence.
But, as I entered the yard and looked around, I was quickly surrounded by other bigger boys. Some of the boys were the problem boys from days ago and I realized I was in mortal danger, but I had no way to save myself. There were no friendly faces around me. I backed up.
I wasn’t with Michael.
I was standing there alone.
The opening to the fence was not near me and the boys circling around me pushed us further into the yard, as they went around me.
The biggest meanest boy approached me and looked at me as if I was nothing. He stared down his nose at me. His eyes told of anger, and it scared me. I knew that it would be bad. His clenched fist was bigger than my entire face. He pulled his arm back and hit me square in the face, knocking me out and I fell to the ground in a heap.
The next thing that I remember was thinking that he really didn’t need to hit me so hard. I was like a feather in the wind and was hurt easily. As I lay on the ground, unable to move, I gradually became aware that I was getting beaten by everybody. The circle had closed in so that everyone was very close to me.
I was being hit and kicked from all sides, getting hit all over my body, mainly in my face, head and chest. I curled in a tiny ball to protect myself, because I was having a hard time breathing.
No one noticed my pain and they continued striking me without stopping, again and again. I was bleeding and I took a final deep painful breath as I felt myself leaving my body. The pain quickly stopped as I began to drift.
I thought, oh, no, this is terrible. I wanted so badly to be a hero for Michael, and here I was getting myself killed. As I departed my body upwards, I was about three to four feet off of the ground, when I heard a noise at the at the fence opening. It was to my left, and I looked in that direction, and there he was, Michael. He had heard, and he had come.
He was standing with his right arm on the stone fence. And he was pointing his finger at the boys, and he was yelling at them, and they were running like little rats away from me, away from my body. I paused staring at him, in disbelief that I would no longer be with this amazing person and my opportunity in this life had ended too soon. It was not the plan.
He came to me immediately and picked up my broken body, lifting it up and cradling me like a child, speaking soft words that only he and I knew.
Immediately I knew I had to get back in my body.
I knew that I was not supposed to.
There’s actually a rule that once you leave your body you cannot get back in, a universal spiritual law, but I had to get back in my body.
I fought, and I fought, and I clawed my way back in to inhabit my broken body again, even if for a short time.
Michael carried me carefully back to the monastery whispering soft tender words into my ear and begging me not to leave. All of the boys were gone. There was nobody left, they had wisely run away, but their faces were all remembered, and they would have to answer for this day on another day.
As we got back to the monastery and entered the back door, we were greeted by the other monks who came to see what had happened. They looked down on Peter with so much pity, as if they always knew this day would come, as if they knew that my life would be short, or maybe they thought I deserved it, and this did not surprise them at all.
I blinked back tears and rested my head on Michael’s chest. I could feel him breathing and his heartbeat. His anger had subsided, and his muscles had relaxed with me in his arms.
Michael took me into the room that we shared and laid me down on the bed to begin tending to my wounds. My bones were twisted, and he tried to straighten them out, but it was too painful. It would be a massive challenge to stay in this broken body, but I was determined to will my way inside my body, to hold on and to stay just for Michael.
I just had to spend the final moments of my life together with him. He held me all night long, watching my shredded breath until morning when I was much weaker. It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to stay alive. Michael never left my side. He stayed and took care of me the whole day. Mostly he cradled me.
He tried to feed me, but I had no appetite. The days of joy and laughter seemed so far away, I wish we had taken more time for love. Life goes by so fast. Today are the golden days, don’t wait for them. If you are with the one you love, hold onto time, try to savor each moment. Because life is fleeting.
Time seemed to be going sideways and slowly downhill, by the following night, I could not stay in that body any longer, and I began to fail. To my surprise, Michael cried. I never saw Michael cry before in my entire life.
He was the tough guy.
He was the one that you could really play hard during childhood games, but he would never cry. No one had ever hurt him before and now he was sitting with me in his lap, crying and putting his head on my shoulder and my head. It was all I could do to breathe in and out.
I wanted to tell him I loved him so desperately, but I couldn’t breathe or speak anymore, not a single word. Death came during the night, and I was called to go to another place.
My friend and I remembered all of the tiny moments at the end. Michael remembered all of his bits and pieces from his perspective, and I shared mine. He remembered coming to the opening in that fence and seeing me on the ground being attacked. He remembered with greater clarity than I.
He remembered his shock and anger at the boys, and I remembered how I felt when I saw him standing at the fence. To my surprise and joy, Michael told me that he loved me more than he loved anything in that life, and that my value was beyond words.
My heart and Peter’s heart sang with joy. He always wanted to hear the words that he was more important than anything else, and that he was worth fighting for. Although it had taken an entire millennium and many other lives, he was hearing it now and Peter was joyous which caused me to cry.
I am sitting at the table crying, my friend and Michael are sitting at the table crying and the people in the restaurant are looking at us wondering what is going on.
My friend also shared with me that after my death, Michael hunted down all the boys and took care of them in his own way. I never was really clear what that meant, but I suspect that no one ever found any of the bodies, which would be typical Michael.
The timeframe of 999-1000 was a moment we both remembered. The turn of the millennium. We also remembered the word Jesuit. However, if you do a bit of research you will find that the actual history of Jesuit begins in 1531, so there is a conflict, and we are not sure if the word Jesuit means something else in that timeframe. It is unresolved.
This particular life makes me realize… the importance of communication and letting those around you know how you really feel about them, when they’re in a position to appreciate it and enjoy it. Certainly, Peter wasn’t at the end. He was not in a position to remember or enjoy anything.
He was in the last moments of his life when he realized how special he was, and he waited another lifetime to hear how special he was to Michael. It seemed strange to me the way it all happened.
I would recommend to all of you that when you’re with your special significant other, don’t keep it a secret. Life is short. Share it when you can so you can both enjoy it together. Oftentimes I see this with people passing away. Your parent, significant other or sibling will never know how much they really meant to that other person and that opportunity is lost.
I recommend, as they say, go hug everybody, go tell them how you feel. Don’t wait.