Note: the following message contains a few words from the Scientology universe, in which both Paul and I once participated. I have put them into italic print and their definitions are at the bottom of the page.


Paul Smith Dead At 70 - An Angel Killed by Tobacco!



I have the sad duty to inform you of the death of my husband, Paul Smith, this morning around 9:25, from a sepsis that two hospitals could not find the reason for in 3 weeks!

Paul lived from 25-05-1936 until 16-02-2007. A professional bachelor who thoroughly enticed the lady world for his first 62 years, he fulfilled the prediction of a fortune teller that he would meet somebody special late in his life, when we first met in 1998 and from there on have not really been separated anymore. Could not separate, actually, because we connected on every level and soon formed a unity that would span any space between our physical forms.

Until now!

Paul made a complete change from a lady's man to a family father. He was a sports teacher and english coach for everybody, he took care of my 4 complicated kids, he took care of the cat, the rabbits, the chickens and his workaholic wife - and enjoyed every minute of it.

He didn't need a movie screen or a TV tube. He had the talent to see the comedy even in harsh situations in life and entertain everybody with the comic situations that he saw... until now.

But the funny face was only one of his facettes. He was also a natural auditor* (with a Class 6* training) and had the greatest empathy of all the men that I have met.

"Only a carpenter" and "only a grade 4*", he had a spiritual understanding that spanned the universe, he was a gifted telepath and had OT* abilities. He could discuss the most complicated spiritual concepts while shoveling chicken shit. When I was at a loss of words to explain a bold and new spiritual concept, he put the words for it into my mouth - reading my mind, or extrapolating from my attempts to express my thoughts - who knows.

Also: in a time where I suffered from unmock* and rejection as a woman, he was a lover with the selflessness of an angel and the vocabulary of an XXX-rated clown. What he said would come across funny, but what he did emanated the bliss of heaven... until now...

When Paul stopped smoking in 2000 after 46 years of only one pack a day, he already knew about his lung emphysema. Actually he knew it already in 1998 when we met. He promised to stop smoking then, but it took him 3 years to finally get rid of the addiction.

Lung emphysema (or COPD) is a disease where air bubbles form in the lung. These bubbles have no function and reduce breathing efficiency. It does not always come from smoking, but smoking is the most prominent cause.

Emphysema does not heal, it is only possible to slow down its progress by stopping cigarettes, and by other measures. In its most severe form, a patient's oxygen production is reduced so much that he depends on external oxygen from a bottle and even then becomes physically weak and disabled.

During the last half year, Paul's health deteriorated. All the things that made up his life burned away like the millimeters of a cigarette. The bike riding that he loved went up in smoke. The mountain hiking that he loved went up in smoke. He had to give up the firewood sawing, an activity that had kept him fit for many years even with a lung full of bubbles.

Being a chicken farmer became too much effort. In the middle of our moving house he had to give up the chauffeur's job because he was exhausted and in pain. Lovemaking went up in smoke - a planned romantic evening ended with fever chills and first aid. Then, tending to the furnace. Cooking, shopping, driving the kids - all went up in smoke.

Finally, he was a patient - first without, then with the already mentioned oxygen bottle -, and we had to shop and cook for him and drive him to his doctors. He hated that role. He always wanted to contribute, but the abilities for it had disappeared together with his lung tissue.

Without enough oxygen, the food he ate just went through his body and he became a skeleton, just skin and bones, unbelievable. Without enough oxygen, a cheerful and blissful presence turned into such agony that even watching it was painful.

Without enough oxygen, with the immune system compromised and zero reserves in body weight, a little wound that the doctors couldn't even find poisoned him to death.

I cannot find the words to express my loss. It is not a loss really, I have been ripped apart in the middle and I am bleeding.

I lost contact to Paul soon after I found him hovering as an incredibly beautiful warm shine over his dead body in the hospital. There was a precious exchange between us in these moments, but soon afterwards he got interested in some new things and he went his own ways.

To me, he was an angel who had reached for me out of heaven. Even with his black humor and dirty jokes, he filled a room with the bliss of heaven. Loving him was touching God.

When Paul left, heaven closed right before my eyes and I can no longer see it connecting with Earth. In theory, there may be some more people like him - not many, just some. In practice, I will probably never meet them.

Please, any of you readers who still smoke, think about it!



* Footnote:

Paul and I were both ex-members of the Church of Scientology. We still used some of its words, especially when we were exchanging e-mails with other ex-members. Here are definitions for the Scientology words contained in this message:


Auditor: a spiritual consultant

Class 6: a training level for auditors

Grade 4: a level of personal spiritual accomplishment

OT: a powerful spirit who can perceive and operate to a higher or lesser degree without a physical body

to unmock: to make nothing of something or somebody