Saved by an Angel (26 page)

“E
AT
F
ISH
!”
by Lynn Geosits

In 1987, my favorite uncle, Lou Garrett, passed away. About six months later, Uncle Lou appeared to me in the dream state. He stood next to a woman who was dressed as a nurse. “Eat fish!” he told me. Then he disappeared.

I felt energized by his visit, yet I had so many things I wanted to talk to him about that I was disappointed he was gone and had only told me to eat fish! I had been a vegetarian for almost 20 years, and his message was difficult for me to hear. It took me a year to add fish to my diet, but eventually I did so. I was living on the West Coast at the time, and I came to enjoy the fresh fish. Then I moved inland and disregarded his message again.

Soon afterward, I developed a tremor in my nervous system and head. The neurologist said I would have it the rest of my life and that there was no cure. Frustrated with her dismal diagnosis, I contacted a medical intuitive. She said I was suffering from malnutrition and needed more protein. She explained that I had overdone the soy and beans, and my body needed other sources of protein and iodine.

I immediately remembered the visitation by my uncle and realized that he was guiding me about this even before I had gotten sick. I followed the intuitive’s advice and added fish back into my diet. Now, the tremor is totally gone! If I had been more diligent in following my uncle’s guidance, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the condition in the first place. I know that Uncle Lou was my angel that day and saw what I needed! Incidentally, in real life he had been a chiropractor and had been very interested in new healing techniques.

S
HE
T
OUCHED
U
S
by Jennifer Aldrich

My mother passed away about three years ago. She was a huge believer in angels. I did not start to believe in them until she got cancer and was dying. A few months after she passed on, I began having dreams with her in them, and each time my sister would have a similar dream within a couple of days, before or after mine.

One dream in particular touched both my husband and me. I had this dream right after we bought our first house and moved in. In the dream, we were settling into bed, and across from us was a piano. I had just fallen asleep and was awakened by the piano playing music, and a white foggy light.

The light “stood up” and came over the bed. I saw my mom’s face, and she just smiled very big at me. Then she reached out and touched my hand and my husband’s. I woke up right after that. I had really felt her touch, and I was crying. When I told my husband about the dream, he said that he, too, had felt my mother touch his hand.

She has not been back since. I do miss her greatly, but I know she is home in heaven where she wanted to be.

E
XTRA
T
IME WITH
D
AD
by Tatia Manahan-Heine

In January of 2001, I was married for the first time. Eleven days later, my father was found dead. I was horrified to hear the news, since Dad had seemed fine at the wedding. I later found out that when I had walked down the aisle, he turned to friends in the audience and said, “My job is now done here.” It was as if he knew he was going to die less than two weeks later.

Traveling to my parents’ home, I cried the whole way on the plane. I cried so hard that my body shook. Since my dad didn’t talk much about religion or spirituality, I was unsure how he was doing in heaven. I asked God three specific questions:

1. “Is Dad with You?”

2. “What time did he die?” (The coroner determined that he died sometime on Tuesday, but he wasn’t discovered until Wednesday.)

3. “Is he happy where he is?”

I received my answer in Dad’s poignant way when I arrived at my parents’ house.

My dad had worked for Columbia Gas in Ohio, and had known a lot about heating systems. So I could tell that Dad was making his presence known when the heat went out in the house. A repair technician said that a heating switch had been turned off, yet nobody had been in the house, and it’s unlikely that anyone but Dad would have known about this particular switch.

I wanted to feel close to Dad, so I took some blankets and told my mother that I was going to sleep in Dad’s bedroom while she and my sister slept downstairs. But as soon as I said that, the lights blew out. I guess Dad didn’t want me to sleep there for some reason!

So, I went to bed in another room, and Dad came to me in an extremely vivid dream. I just knew that it was him—
I saw him!
He was glowing. Dad told me that he was okay and not to worry anymore. He said that he was with my mom’s side of the family. Her two deceased brothers then greeted him, and he repeated that I shouldn’t worry. And then, as if in answer to my question to God about the time of his death, I saw Dad walking; he looked at a clock and started to fall, and the clock said 8:42
P.M.
After that everything went black, so I took this to mean that this was the time he’d made his transition to the Other Side.

The next day, I was able to tell the funeral director what my father had been wearing. And when he handed us Dad’s clothing and belongings, I wasn’t surprised to find the exact outfit I had seen Dad wearing in my dream visitation.

Dad must have been visiting the whole family and neighbors, too, because nobody knew of my dreams, yet they started mentioning that they’d seen him the night before in
their
dreams. At first, my mom—who hadn’t seen Dad in a dream—didn’t believe me, until I described her two brothers whom I saw with him in the afterlife plane. There was no other way I could have known that information.

I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to spend a little extra time with my dad. When I miss him, I ask for a sign; and within minutes, Dad’s favorite song plays on the radio to let me know he’s with me.

H
E
H
ELD
O
N TO
M
Y
S
ISTER
by Teresa

My sister was struck by a car on December 1, 1999. She was hit from behind and flew up on the driver’s car before landing on the ground. After extensive testing, the doctor informed us that she was physically okay but had sustained a traumatic brain injury. She was thought to be in danger of losing her life, and he was unable to provide us with any answers regarding her prognosis or the effects of the injury. He said that this type of injury was usually “lethal.”

Everyone we knew began praying for her recovery, which I know helped her get through the ordeal. She was taken off the ventilator the next day and was able to speak to and recognize everyone. She remained in the hospital for one week and was sent to a rehab facility to work on the few deficits (left-side weakness and difficulty concentrating) she had remaining. She was released from the rehab hospital on December 30, 1999, three weeks earlier than originally planned.

One other miracle occurred, besides the fact that everyone’s prayers assisted her in healing. The weekend before the accident, my sister had told me about a dream she’d had about our brother, who’d passed away in December of 1998. She said that the dream upset her to the point that she woke up crying. In it, my brother was in an airplane, which was odd because he never flew. He was also holding an infant.

Suddenly, the airplane started to crash. Throughout, my brother continued to hold the infant tight to him. In the end, everyone in the airplane died, except for my brother and the infant.

At the time, we did not understand what this meant, but I believe we do now. My sister is 12 years younger than my brother (he was 40 when he passed away). She is the baby of the family, and to him, she was still his baby sister. I truly do believe that my brother was her guardian angel the day she was hit by the car, and he was protecting her from as much bodily injury as possible by holding her in his arms. I have always believed that we all have guardian angels who help protect us, but I feel that my sister is a living testament to the fact that they do exist.

T
HE
E
ND OF THE
N
IGHTMARES
by Charlton Archard

It was August 1978, just before school was about to start. My three brothers, my two sisters, and I had all received new bicycles that summer. We’d all ridden our bikes to our annual dentist appointment. My sister Elizabeth was first to be in and out of the dreaded chair. She rode up the street to my stepfather’s law firm to see him, but he was busy with a client, so she decided to head home alone. That was the last time we would see her alive.

Elizabeth was accosted one mile from home, driven to a dump in the woods, raped, and murdered. The man responsible for her death was tracked down, tried, and sentenced to 18 years to life in prison. Needless to say, my family struggled with the devastation of this crisis. I was 12 at the time, and the youngest in the family.