Saved by an Angel (24 page)

D
REAM
V
ISITATIONS FROM
D
ECEASED
L
OVED
O
NES

D
AD
I
S
S
TILL WITH
U
S
by Michelle Massip Handel

My father died suddenly of a heart attack at age 61. My mother, my brother, and I were shocked. One night after his death, I had an auditory experience where he told me to stop making such a big deal out of it. He said that he was fine, and that he didn’t want me to feel so sad. I called my mother immediately, only to find out that she’d had a similar experience.

My brother was at the beach at the time, and when he returned home, he called me. He said, “I just want you to know that I was down at the beach thinking about Dad, and he’s okay.” Then I told him about my mother’s and my own similar experiences.

The three of us continued to have dream visitations. When I woke up from one of these visits, I felt as if I had really spent time with my dad. It felt very good. Dad and I visited in my dreams the nights before my birthday for several years. I felt like it was my birthday gift from him.

One day my mother told me that she broke down crying because she couldn’t fix something in the house, something my father would have taken care of. She heard him tell her to get a tool out in the garage, and he even told her specifically where it was.

I’m no longer getting visits from my father in my dreams that I remember, but I certainly talk to him and feel his presence.

T
HE
L
IGHT AND THE
R
OSE
by Cheryl Anne

In February of 1991, my mother-in-law passed away after a long battle with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. She died a slow and painful death, and it was a very difficult period. My firstborn son, her first grandchild, was only four months old at the time of her passing. I believe that her desire to see him kept her alive those last few months.

About a week after she died, I had a “dream” where I was somehow transported to the sanctuary of the church where my mother-in-law’s memorial service had been held. For a short time, maybe a minute, I was alone. Then she appeared. She was so beautiful. She looked like herself, full figured and round faced, but glowing. I had never seen her looking so healthy and vibrant.

She greeted me in her jovial way and said, “Don’t worry—I’m okay. I’m not sick anymore; it’s so wonderful!” She was wearing a long, flowing flowered gown. She said that she was wearing that gown because God had placed her in a garden, and that it was more beautiful there than anyone could imagine. I could actually smell the flowers as she described them. I felt total peace.

The next thing I remember, I was awakened by my husband. We both sat straight up in bed in complete shock. The hallway outside our bedroom was filled with a magnificent light. There were no lights on in the house, and it was well past midnight. Just as the light faded away, a rose that we had saved from the memorial service spun in its vase. I was so glad we had both witnessed this or I would have probably thought I was crazy!

D
AD
’
S
R
EASSURANCE
by Carol W.

My father lived alone in Arizona, quite a distance from his other family members and me. My sisters and I spoke with him by phone regularly, so when we didn’t hear from him for several days, we got worried. My sister called the local police and requested that they go to Dad’s home. They found my father dead on his bed. Apparently he had died several days earlier.

An autopsy was never conducted, as the coroner said that Dad had died of natural causes. However, it bothered my sisters and me that we never found out what our father died of.

Over the next few months, I would wake up out of a sound sleep with the feeling of my father’s presence at the end of my bed. But I was too afraid to look at my father’s apparition in case he looked frighteningly decayed, like when his body was discovered by the police. I shared this fear with my sister, and she reassured me that Dad would look just like he did when he was healthy and living.

Well, my sister was right. I had a dream where she and I were putting dishes away and talking about Dad. The next thing I remember, everything turned white around me. My sister was no longer there, and my dad was sitting at my kitchen table. I remember how good he looked, and I told him so. I also told him that I loved him and missed him. I noticed that while sitting there, he wasn’t smoking or drinking coffee like he always did.

I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had died of a heart attack. After that, I woke up and have been at peace about my father ever since.

N
EVER
T
RULY
L
OST
by Chuck Pekala

On June 1, 1998, my father passed on suddenly. He and I were very close in our own way. Dad was born in the 1920s, and his family was not the most openly loving group of people. I hadn’t embraced him since I’d been a child, and I hadn’t kissed him since he’d come out of quadruple-bypass surgery six years earlier. Still, we had a relationship that was comfortable for Dad, if not 100 percent fulfilling for me. And we were both well aware of how much we loved each other.

I try very hard not to overlook special days for special people in my life, and Father’s Day 1998 was no exception. I had purchased cards for Dad weeks before his passing. So, when the time came for his viewing, I felt it was very important to place his cards in his hands, and I did so.

In the cards, I wrote very personal notes to my father that I haven’t shared with a soul. I had to tell him that I loved him very much. I thanked him for being the best father he knew how to be, and for never making me doubt his love. I told him I was glad he got to spend some retirement years with Mom, something I had prayed to God for all my life. And I told Dad that even though I was now a man, I would still always be his one and only little boy. I knew that he was proud of me, and we had no unresolved issues. I closed the last card by telling him that I would be thinking of him on Father’s Day, and that I would feel peace in knowing he was with God.

Two weeks later, the Saturday before Father’s Day arrived. That night I went to bed with thoughts of my father. I had a wonderful dream in which he walked into the room and stood silently. He looked at me and at first seemed somewhat confused, and then he slowly began to smile.

I asked, “Dad, are you okay? What do you want to tell me?”

Dad continued smiling and looked into my eyes. He replied, “I want you to know I am okay, Chuck. Do not worry. It is beautiful here, and I have never been happier.” (Dad didn’t have an easy life.)

I woke up with an overwhelming sense of peace and security. My father was in God’s care. The world was right again.

Another month passed, and my mother had a dream about my father. In it, he stood before her holding the hand of a small blond boy.

My mother said, “I love you very much, and I miss you, honey.”

Dad smiled back and said, “I know.”

My mother looked at him again and said, “I am a bit confused. Who is that small boy with you?”

My father replied, “I don’t know, dear, but he was lost and told me he did not want to be alone, so I took his hand to keep him company.”

The dream ended. My father loved children. I found this dream to be so typical of him, and I often wonder who that child was. I pray for them both. I hope that whoever lost that boy has had their own dream and knows he is well.

Perhaps reading my words will in some way comfort someone else who has lost a loved one. Actually, I don’t care for the word
lost,
in this sense, since I believe that my father is still very much with me.

I S
AW
M
Y
N
EPHEW
by Anonymous

My dear nephew passed away at the age of 35 after a long struggle with malignant melanoma. He lived his last months with his parents in Chile, and the only thing that I, his godmother, could do for him from my home in the United Kingdom was pray for him. I began to pray every day to his angels to be with him and to give him faith, as well as relief from his pain.

One night I dreamed that I was there with my nephew at a family gathering. Everybody was wearing white clothes, and although it was a wedding celebration, everyone was looking sad and silent. I found my nephew sitting in an armchair, looking very weak and thin. He was surrounded by a group of good friends in white robes who were very cheerful and happy to be with him and to protect him. I woke up feeling sure that I had seen his angels in my dream.

The morning after my nephew passed away, I went into a church to pray for him. As I left, a young man came walking down the street who looked exactly like him! Even his way of walking and his clothes resembled my nephew’s. I had to stop and stare in amazement, so the lad smiled … and his smile was also like my dear nephew’s. Of course it was no apparition—he was a real person—but the “coincidence” was very striking.