Thank you very much for this site. For the last few months now i have had this very strong urge to create an angel book made up of angel pictures. I had thought that this was a childhood memory wanting replayed or something like it but i now believe (after reading this site) that this is my angels trying to let me know that they are there.
Can i offer you one true story that i truelly believe in and also which my mum believes in too?
It was 1996 and my father was in hospital, we knew he was dying, but this day, he was, well alert, he asked me to get him his tape cassette with his favourite singer, which i did, and that afternoon he lay on his bed listening to it through his earphones. After about 30 minutes he stopped the casette and said that that was all he wanted.
Well i felt that he had improved health wise and that he would be around for many more days i decided that that night at visiting i would stay at home and cut the grass.
Visiting time was nearing and my family came out to say that they were leaving for the hospital and i had this urge to go to. Leaving the grass half cut.
When we arrived the doctor came to us and said he (my dad) was a fighter and that he did not expect him to still be here. this made me glad.
Anyway later that night visiting came to an end and yet we didn't leave, we stayed in his room. We even had an arguement with the doctors as they wouldn't give him any food or drink orally but we said why not, what harm could it do if he was dying anyway? and they agreed so he got a can of iron bru.
Later as my mum and i sat by his bed a young man came in and said he was the replacement doctor and asked us for information on my dad as he had not read his notes yet.
While talking to us he put a new drip on and as he turned he somehow nocked my dads casette of the bed. He could not say sorry fast enough and often enough, then he left once we checked that the casette was ok. We did not play it at this time.
About 20 minutes later it was only my mum and myself that was there when my dad asked my mum for a kiss. They shared a small sweet kiss and then i took his hand and started to smooth his hair down (my two sisters went downstairs to call our other sister to tell her to get here ), when i noticed that he had stopped breathing.
We held our own breaths for what felt like hours and then we called /screamed on the doctor and nurses, the first doctor that we seen came in with a crash cart and loads of other nurses, but the doctor who changed his drip was nowhere to be found. That is untill i went out to the lifts to go and get my sisters and he came from the other side of the hospital. He looked at me with a kindly smile and with a kind of warmth look, that made you feel calm.
When we spoke to my sisters later about the doctor who dropped dads casette they said they diddn't see him, that the only doctor on that ward that night was the blound haired doctor that had said to us that my dad was a fighter.
The other amazing thing about this is that when i with my oldest sister played the tape my dad had been listening to, we found he had stopped it at a song about a guy saying goodbye and that he didn't want to go.
FROM THAT DAY UNTILL THE DAY I DIE, I WILL BELIEVE THAT THAT MAN WAS INFACT MY DADS ANGEL, THERE TO TAKE HIM HOME.