My first nonfiction is entitled ‘Mom’s on the Roof and I can’t Get Her Down’, which is available as a paperback and in most eBook formats. Based on the copyright date of that nonfiction and what mom said about the future, that book is proving God's word without much human intervention. In fact, my book entitled ‘My ArmOr’ shows reveals some of the outcomes of some of her death bed ramblings. Was my mother just babbling or ‘in the know’ with the help of GOD?
I’m NOT going into the prophecy, here. You’ll need to buy both books or get the free eBooks when I announce coupons to download them free from SMASHWORDScom, those copies download to most electronic devices including computers. See my ‘Free eBook Selection’ page at this site for more information.
The excerpt highlights or lowlights my trip of a lifetime that changed my direction, permanently.
Chapter 13: Another Trip?
The Falls NOT Niagara
On the Saturday, I went to see Julie play indoor soccer. She’d played since Kindergarten making it one year to the semi-pros. She and I went to her game after church; I enjoyed the break in routine. My husband and I rarely went to these adult indoor games so it was fun to watch her play two games. As I sat in a plastic lawn chair set out by the club, the second game neared completion. Never much of a screamer, I sat fairly quietly benefiting from the timid breeze wafting in from doors opening and closing. My ease dropping technique helped me devote myself to the light conversations going on around me as well. My area remained perfectly still without as much as a squeak as I shifted my body weight a few times.
Just before leaving the facility, near the end of that second game, while placing my arms in position to lift my body to a stand something weird happened. An explosion of plastic came out of nowhere; the chair crystallized from beneath me. I was no stranger to the experience of falling. Thus, as my mind prepared for the crash of my body to the floor, I failed to stop my downfall. This tumble reminded me of a similar topple from a chair.
More than twenty years earlier, while watching the movie entitled “Alien,” when the creature emerged from the man’s stomach- the screws on my chair busted loose; and I hit the theater’s cement floor. Each time, my arms broke the force of my tumble. Even though it momentarily hurt, I stood up promptly saying, “I’m okay!”
After purchasing our boat, we cruised non-stop- almost every week-end without a break. After our kids tired of tying up all their week-ends, we took some friends up the local river one Sunday. That trip happened the day after my body fell at that soccer club. Except for a light ache and some small bruises, I felt fine. Our scheduled boating trip occurred without a hitch. When we stopped at the local spring, some of the group floated from the boil to the edge of the river. Not in love with ice water, I strolled with some of our friends discussing my plans to go to Niagara Falls in the autumn.
“When you go, there’s a beautiful city there full of lush gardens; it’s beautiful. Every flower imaginable lines the streets in the spring as well as summer. I think every color in the universe comes together there. Make sure you find it.”
Smiling at her, I thought, ‘If the fall hasn’t ruined that view!’
The way she described it, that town sounded like a colorful dreamland. I never worried for a minute that my plans would disintegrate in the very near future. After all, my husband and I had become jet setters of late. We’d, also, become avid boaters.
As some kids in the water reacted to the ever-present, ugly Garr fish, my mind took me back. We’d owned a boat before but sold it when our kids were young. One week, we took some family and friends down that same river to fish and have a boat picnic. We brought aboard a pail of lives minnows along with food and drinks. After a long day of pulling in dead bait, my husband decided to change locations, again. He started the boat heading for a shaded alcove except he failed to command, “Some of you need to be on the other side of the craft because I’m turning around and heading over there.”
Noticing the craft tilting too far to the driver’s side and the minnow bucket toppling, I screamed, “Slow down or we will flip this boat!” My feet scurried to the other side to achieve better balance as my husband computed his mistake swinging the other direction to thwart the air the craft was catching. I tumbled with the minnows crashing my shoulder into the other side of our vehicle before coming to a halt.
Quickly, my husband asked, “How are the minnows?”
One of our guests summarized, “They’re out of the pail, flailing, and demanding their bucket full of water.”
“I’m okay,” I chimed in.
“What happened?” They focused too much on the canopy they planned to fish under never noticing their poor weight distribution or my attempt to save their ship. The guy asking that question flung as many fish back into the bucket before refilling it with river water. Just like him, I’d do anything to save the ones I care about and love.
The next day, my shoulder ached a bit but I chalked it up to advancing age as well as that accident. It really didn’t seem like there was any real problems under the bruises. I could still use that arm and lift things so I ran it under the shower’s hot water, massaged it, and continued on with life.
Suddenly, the hollering voices of children frolicking at the spring and its stream brought me back to my current reality fast. My entourage had strolled a bit faster, so I sped up to rejoin their conversation. Being married to a man that walked many paces ahead of me and my meandering mind taught me how to skillfully reenter a conversation or situation. Even though they’d moved on to reminiscing about their kids’ childhoods, I caught up- quickly. The background noise was the sound of other peoples’ kids enjoying their day at this swimming hole. I quickly moved back into the gathering while recollecting about my daughters’ past experiences at that very location.
Just as we passed by the sidewalk area where a young girl once screamed and cussed at her mother like a sailor due to a malady such as ‘Threats Syndrome’, my eyes caught the flash of the whitewashed home of the estate owner that allowed the state to make this area a permanent park. I barely recognized that haunting view nor did I dally on any memories of that demon possessed girl. Instead, my brain focused on the days my daughters and I stalked the manatees that bed down at that river for the winter. We knew where they hid in the summer as well. My girls and I spent hours watching them at this park and the intercostals’ waterway during our hot season.
Even though we hadn’t visited those channels since high school and my daughters were already through college, I recalled that seeing and learning the fate of those sluggish, lackluster creatures changed lives because one of my girls became an environmentalist to save endangered species like those marine mammals, sea cows. Some of the recollections of that place filled my thoughts as we strolled by a lawn where people played pickup games of soccer and other sports. After years away from that park, I restored the fond memories of that location while making new ones.
Party Like a Rock Star
One hot day, I mentioned aloud, “We have not entertained anyone but our immediate family on the new toy. Let’s do a BBQ and invite extended family and some friends to join us. The summer is almost over, and they keep hinting that we should invite them.”
We invited everyone to our boating club in Orlando’s outskirts to party like rock stars or in ‘their neck of the woods,’ anyway. Many celebrity homes lined the lakes we’d visit. We talked about who owned some of the mansion on this chain of lakes then had some fun with our craft. The only family or friends to arrive were my brother-in-law and his clan. In his youth, he’d played guitar for some groups, and some of his friends became minor successes. This guy and my daughter jammed together often especially in the month before losing his parents or her grandparents.
His children loved racing behind us on a tube. He seemed more like me as a parent dishing out last minute warnings such as stating the obvious, “Hold the line tight or you may tumble through the water. Here, let’s check your life vest for snugness!”
Since no one else showed up, his children played to their hearts’ content. He worried aloud most of the time. To his relief, we decided to tour the really rich people’s homes in the nearby lakes before calling it a day. The location of some local celebrities’ homes was common knowledge. All their money and power showed from the backside of their houses. Some allowed themselves to enjoy their lakeside views; others placed walls around their open spaces prisoners to their fame. It’s sad to fear intrusions in your life to that degree.
Once back at the club’s docks, we kept the boat in the water because some relatives swore they were on the way. When the summer, rain clouds blew in- we stopped waiting pulling the boat to the trailer to outrace the storms that usually go west to east. As we fled down the interstate in the same direction, the torrential rains beat us while a premonition gained force reigning over my psyche.
The trailer rocked in the wind as I warned, “Drive slower. Just get us home in one piece. The black ice and towing our boat are a deadly combination. If you make a sudden turn or mistake, we’ll end up in the hospital.”
While issuing that warning, a few things happened. My eyes darted towards the new tower at the hospital just off the interstate; relatives faced good news and bad news in the old wings of it. The nephew that just frolicked on our tube was born, there. However, Grandma Helen faced the repercussions of age and her colon cancer treatments, there. That medical center’s breezeway had taunted me from time to time. My mind escaped back to the present. “Slow down,” I screamed as tires screeched. An internal whisper warned me of lurking danger and the possibility of me winding up in that nearby medical facility. As my eyes scanned that old hospital with its two new wings, my heart skipped some beats; my thoughts grew louder, ‘I’m trying to avoid that place.’
My premonitions started earlier. Before her passing, in her last four years of life, my mother-in-law spent many days in various hospitals and nursing homes. Each time, I’d walk the halls towards her room thinking that it would be miserable when my children made this same journey due to my husband or me. Trepidation overcame me especially when I pictured myself in the facility on the horizon of the interstate. It always felt too soon as well as upsetting to think of my own demise.
Many times in the past few years, at that very hospital, as I walked through an enclosed pedestrian path over railroad tracks, my visions chased me. Quickly, my mind dismissed the worries as overload of emotions over my parent’s young deaths. My brain analyzed and decided my premonitions about that very hospital came from the jumble of emotions about those losses as well as- more recently- my family mourning the other grandparents’ illnesses and then deaths. After my father-in-law beat his ex-wife to the grave, the eerie visions became clearer. In fact, while watching my husband’s mom fade, my mind attempted to erase the idea that I’d be in that hospital- soon.
Other phantoms chased me in the past few weeks but I chalked them up to the fresh memories of Grandpa Hanson and Grandma Helen’s passing. When the television show ‘60 Minutes’ did a piece on robot arms verses leg apparatus, I fled in my mind and from the television. When the Travel or Discovery Channel did stories and documentaries on people heroically surviving accidents and natural disasters, I quieted my thoughts by trying not to face them. When talk show hosts spoke with amputees about superhuman survival, my mind swore that if it happened to me that I couldn’t make the same decisions about a limb.
My heart skipped a few beats as my premonition got louder in my spirit during the pounding rain on the car windshield. ‘Your children will walk the path to see you there, at that hospital, soon!’
In spite of my anxiety and concern on the interstate that rainy day, we made it home, safely. The downpour stopped but my mind kept reliving the warning about that hospital. Plus, the documentaries about survival after disasters and the stories about bionic limbs chased me all week. My mind wondered how I’d survive given the same outcome of the man that had to choose his arm or himself. I couldn’t cut off my limb to save my life; I’d never exit that wilderness. My mind explained this fact to my soul- repeatedly. It felt like a strange, internal conversation, and my mind couldn’t shut it down. However, I chalked these weird ideas up to something else triggering my inner fears. My mind failed to heed the warning from my soul that was preparing my spirit for my next, life trauma.
Sometimes, it’s hard to know when Heaven communicates and when it’s misinformation coupled with ‘free will.’ Plus, people have the intelligence to take data and clues then use deductive reasoning to arrive at a possible, probable, plausible, and good guesses or predictions about an outcome or event. Thus, there were times that I got it wrong. For example, I dreamed of an earthquake in Clarksville that I escaped without bodily harm. While living in Tennessee, when I revealed my premonition, those people I told believed until the very last minute.
Plus, they wanted to know more about my strange thoughts. Soon, one of them decided to test my psychic capabilities. I never professed to have those abilities; it was a dream expressed that started the silliness. That doubter did a card game trying to have me read his mind as he stared at the deck. I disengaged getting every single card wrong. As my mind drifted, God chastised my soul, ‘ESP or fortunetelling can be tricky because it’s more ego driven than pure messages from Heaven.’ That’s why those prophesying must be tested; the fruits of their words usually reveal the truth. Be careful of the lunatic fringe; I know they’re out there.
In other words, when no earthquake hit that area, everyone decided that it might be all in my mind. More than likely my friends were not happy when nothing exciting occurred in ‘their neck of the woods.’ However, soon after that dream revelation, my geology professor told our class that a dormant fault line resided nearby. In fact, major earth tremors sent the Mississippi flowing backwards years before my time or in 1812. That’s the other thing about relying on your interpretation of a message or vision; the fallen angels and other spirits know the past and can manipulate communications to turn humans from God’s Will. They know just enough about the past and future to deliver dangerous whispers. That’s what that period in my life taught me.
To soothe my ego, I might joke that until my life ends these events may occur. Since some relatives still live there, it could happen while I’m visiting them. In that time period, maybe, I was simply dreaming that my life might shatter because my mom kept moving us and interrupting my college education’s completion. That could explain why the nightmare shook buildings I frequented for class.
Over the years, I found some of my nighttime fantasies and visions quite amusing. A silly dream teased me one evening. In it, an angel stood near a huge mirror, at a balancing bar, and atop a rich wooden floor. As I entered this scene, she turned, smirked, and asked, “Are my thighs too big?”
Not being blessed with long legs and height like my two sisters, often, I felt fat and unattractive. In spite of my husband’s compliments- including calling me his ‘Sleeping Beauty-’I never quite felt comfortable in my own skin. It felt as though this phantom poked fun at me in my sleeping state.
“You look like a lean, mean, fighting machine!” I used a phrase from a movie where soldiers trained themselves to do battle.
“If you build it, they will come,” She answered with another line from a different movie. Waking up, my spirit felt amused but unsure of what it was I would build.
Another night, I felt as though a big change was coming. Another very old dream flew through my thoughts. In this reverie, young people crowded an area as I passed by greeting each personally as if they mattered on every level of my life. This image recurred the few years I taught religion class as well as public school. So, I dismissed it as action already taken. I did see each of my students- even the worst of them- on individual levels so it made sense for me to ignore the hints within that vision. No further analysis felt necessary for either of those two dreams.
How do you know the difference between a dream and a vision with a message foretelling future events? When is an internal communication or dream simply a memory merged with a fear and when is The Supreme Being sending messages?
What I know for sure is- when I feel it is His Will, my stance is unshakeable verging on appearing prideful. Plus, I rely on God heavily coupling His name with the communication every time it repeats. That’s why I got so mad buying mom her last unopened prescription; my spirit never failed to believe she would die before taking that drug. In short, that’s my best description of why I knew my mother spoke to God while doling out her deathbed messages and why I wrote them unchallenged and unchanged in the book about her and her rooftop experience. However, as much as my inner voice kept reasoning with me about losing body parts and living to describe my life changing situation, I denied that personal premonition to the eleventh hour.
The boat’s radio blared a song entitled, ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ from Journey as we talked about the lead singer and his life tragedies. “I heard he has a crippling disease similar to MS maybe even MD. It is rumored that he can barely walk, now!” I mentioned. “His illness took his ability seemingly overnight.”
“How sad!” My daughter remarked. “I like most of their songs.
“I wasn’t a big fan of that group but I heard his replacement singer in his old band is awesome- even better than he was!” My husband spoke without empathy.
“Sad though!” I declared.
As we talked about good and bad times, my mind wandered. In spite of some of my trials and tribulations, most of the time, I felt lucky to be where Providence placed me in life. Soon, vivid images of my clumsiness pointed to my premonition, again. Interrupting my thoughts about life changes for the singer as well as potentially me, my husband announced, “We are in luck! I see on spot left to beach the boat, so we can float the boil to the end of the spring’s run.” The water covered the beach of the spring’s run due to recent torrential rains that lasted days not hours; these downpours are not unusual for Florida. Normally the sandy terrain can flush extra precipitation in days.
Due to the early hour of the morning, we secured a small place to anchor so that my daughter and husband could brave the chill of the water as I carried their beach towels and other things they wanted to remain dry as they swam. As we passed the toilets, my mind debated using the facilities before my family dumped all their belongings on me. As I contemplated that idea, my husband remarked, “Hey, look at this grass-like stuff that they use to make a run for boats. I bet it is good for traction.”
“Maybe, we should research it for our boat ramp idea. It might be good to put between the driveway and the water,” I understood why he made me look. After my comment, my mind cataloged and stored the name of the turf that allowed the real lawn to surface as well. “It’s Moby Grass!”
As we approached the boil, we passed the historical whitewashed structure. “Do you think that place is open for tours?” My daughter asked, “I’ve wanted to peek inside since I was a kid!”
As my mind raced through tasks and things awaiting me at home, I failed to feel anything bad lurking on my horizon. Thinking more about the facilities to relieve myself of my breakfast coffee, my head shifted towards the white home and the nearby outhouse before I answered her question. “Don’t know the operating hours of that park ranger tour! We can check later!”
As my mind continued wandering and my feet did too- my mind catalogued the Moby grass area, that white house, and the pending trip down the spring’s run. However, a gulley caused by the rain escaped my view. The absent minded professor never fell as many times as I did. Suddenly, my ankle wobbled enough to cause a fall; my body became airborne. The rate I flew up, the sudden twist of my body to save my wrists, and the understanding that the crash landing might hurt- these thoughts raced through my mind. With brute and blunt force, my left shoulder hit the edge of the cement sidewalk before I rolled to completion of this tumble. The trip lasted seconds that felt like forever as I skyrocketed up before downward.
My daughter traipsed just a few feet ahead of me. She felt a sudden urge to turn and help me. Her premonition put her in direct view of my brute force skirmish with a manmade path. However, mystified, all she had time to do was twist her body so that she captured the moment of impact in her memory- forever. There she stood spellbound; I once huffed and puffed to save her shoulders. My fate brought similar breathing but I lost some use of my left shoulder.
My mom always said, “Life always comes back full circle.”
I add, “God is the best at tying loose ends as He weaves His Tales. He foreshadows then finishes His predictions in His Time and His Way. That’s another reason that truth can sometimes be more incredible than fiction.
My recent premonitions came into clear view as I screamed out while airborne, “I don’t believe this!” The next thing I heard was the breaking of bones, mine. My ears heard the crack as my mind tried to determine if my neck, arm, or shoulder just broke.
As my brain raced through the moments before this trip, my mind pointed out all the falls that I sustained over the years. Suddenly, this simple tumble did me in. As I laid there on the ground, I relived all my trips, stumbles, and falls; all came crashing into view. Often my inner voice rejoiced, ‘Wow! I have strong bones for my age because the force of that surely should have broken something.’
This time, my inner voice screamed, ‘Don’t move in case it’s your neck!’ I’d seen the movie ‘Other Side of the Mountain;’ that girl was paralyzed for life.
Something threw me for a loop! What really caused me to be airborne and fly in the manner I did?
My author name when my story is nonfiction is Cynthia Meyers-Hanson. When I may be fibbing in a novel way I use a pen name Sydney S. Song.
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