Here it is, the blog you've been waiting for, Terri!
Here's my account of the amazing, magical, loving, and slightly freaky way my father comforted me from the Other Side (of death, for those of you without access to tv, radio, print media, or the internet) while my mother hovered on the brink of death herself.
Sorry my post is a day late; this is my second crack at posting this blog. Yesterday my internet connection went belly up just as I finished typing. I couldn't even save, let alone post this.
* Keep in mind what some tv character on some show I watched last week said: "One connection to an event is a coincidence, two is a pattern, three is a plan."
My father died six years ago, but he's still around, keeping an eye on his loved ones. Sometimes I recognize signs of his presence. He definitely offered me some comfort the week Mom fought an uncertain battle against a life-threatening infection .
When my husband and I arrived the day after Mom was admitted to the hospital, her nurse's name was Diana. Not Diane, Diana. That's my only sister's name.
I smiled at the coincidence.
Later, Mom's condition worsened. She was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. Her new nurse was named Sally. That's my childhood nickname; my Dad always called me Sally.
I remember thinking, O-kay, Dad; is this your doing?
The next day I received a resounding "Yes."
Mom's new nurse's name was Catherine. Guess what Mom's name is? Yup! She never goes by Cathy; always Catherine. With a 'C'. Just like her nurse.
I found it comforting that Dad was watching over Mom and would be there if she lost the battle with the killer bacteria - which, I'm happy to report, she eventually won.
Another nurse was named Lisa, like Dad's eldest granddaughter. One was Amy, which was an inside joke that I'm not going to explain. Yes, people keep a sense of humor in the Afterlife.
I admit some nurses had names I felt no connection with, like hunky Nurse Dave from the previous post.
Wait a minute...I take that back. Dad was a professional pilot. My daughter's first husband, also a pilot, is a Dave. I hadn't made the connection until now.
When I saw the balloons, I knew Dad was telling me Mom would be okay. I'll tell you about them next week.
Here's my account of the amazing, magical, loving, and slightly freaky way my father comforted me from the Other Side (of death, for those of you without access to tv, radio, print media, or the internet) while my mother hovered on the brink of death herself.
Sorry my post is a day late; this is my second crack at posting this blog. Yesterday my internet connection went belly up just as I finished typing. I couldn't even save, let alone post this.
* Keep in mind what some tv character on some show I watched last week said: "One connection to an event is a coincidence, two is a pattern, three is a plan."
My father died six years ago, but he's still around, keeping an eye on his loved ones. Sometimes I recognize signs of his presence. He definitely offered me some comfort the week Mom fought an uncertain battle against a life-threatening infection .
When my husband and I arrived the day after Mom was admitted to the hospital, her nurse's name was Diana. Not Diane, Diana. That's my only sister's name.
I smiled at the coincidence.
Later, Mom's condition worsened. She was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. Her new nurse was named Sally. That's my childhood nickname; my Dad always called me Sally.
I remember thinking, O-kay, Dad; is this your doing?
The next day I received a resounding "Yes."
Mom's new nurse's name was Catherine. Guess what Mom's name is? Yup! She never goes by Cathy; always Catherine. With a 'C'. Just like her nurse.
I found it comforting that Dad was watching over Mom and would be there if she lost the battle with the killer bacteria - which, I'm happy to report, she eventually won.
Another nurse was named Lisa, like Dad's eldest granddaughter. One was Amy, which was an inside joke that I'm not going to explain. Yes, people keep a sense of humor in the Afterlife.
I admit some nurses had names I felt no connection with, like hunky Nurse Dave from the previous post.
Wait a minute...I take that back. Dad was a professional pilot. My daughter's first husband, also a pilot, is a Dave. I hadn't made the connection until now.
When I saw the balloons, I knew Dad was telling me Mom would be okay. I'll tell you about them next week.
