Fast approaching is Breast Cancer Awareness Month; my first book and writing started with my mom’s terminal illness. I’d thought about doing a memorial anthology but only found two long cancer stories in my possession. I believe a trilogy has better roots to grow an audience. As a result of the lack of a third tale, I’m going to blog three of the miraculous short stories from my book entitled ‘His Story’, which is available as a paperback and in most eBook formats.
At Christmas, Grandma Ellen came to her granddaughter Susie’s new house for a party. Ellen’s husband and she were invited to the other side of the family’s celebration due to her off and on illnesses and the thought that that year might be the last chance to be with the elderly relative at the holidays.
When Grandma arrived, she complained to Candice that John and his wife were not there. Her daughter-in-law, Candice didn’t want to tell her that they were in NYC because another grandmother was recently diagnosed with cancer. The younger woman simply told Ellen that John went to NYC to celebrate the holidays with his wife’s side of the family.
Ellen remarked, “I made it a point to come here because John is fun to chat with. I’ll very much miss sitting and talking with him. At many past parties, he always took the time to speak to me.”
Months later, when Ellen made it to Hospice House already in a coma, Susie was doing John’s taxes. He felt moved to tell Susie about a weird dream he had had that Monday. In his vision, John sat with Grandma Ellen talking and talking about Heaven and how she was safely, there.
That same Monday, in unrelated conversations, Ellen’s eldest son, Mark, mentioned to his step-father, "Mom looks different, today. I feel like her spirit is gone, and her body just won't stop."
Neither John nor Mark knew what the others were saying or thinking. Plus, missing her at the holidays, John had no idea of Ellen’s worsening health condition.
After hearing about the dream, Susie blurted out, “Grandma is at Hospice dying.” That’s when, John asked for Mark’s phone number to tell his reassuring story. When her son listened, he believed that man encountered his mom in that weird dream because it was the same day he felt her spirit left her body.
Later, in conversations, Mark asked his spouse, Candice, why John would have this dream since he only met his mother a few times. That wife told him about his mother’s comments at Christmas- about loving conversations with that man. “Your mom wanted to talk to John; so, apparently, she did. Actually, God allowed it!" Candice added.
“Why John instead of one of the closer family members?”
"If we say we chatted with her in a vision - it is JUST A NICE DREAM. But, if a near stranger- that had no idea she was near death- says he talked to her in a vision about her pending death, it is a gift and message from God! It can’t be doubted as authentic!” Candice added, “Plus, it’s a present for your mom. God gave her the last chance to visit with John instead of dying still missing her last conversation with him at that past Christmas party!” God healed their spirits.
At school, I mentioned that we planned on vacationing in Seattle, Washington. I knew a few things about the area. It rained all year, there. There would be glacial mountains such as Mt. Rainer, nearby. We’d be staying with grandma in the campgrounds on a military base in Tacoma.
One night, before our summer trip, I had a weird dream. I stood in colorless mountains, which were very bright and glistening white. It felt extremely cold so my brain kept demanding a jacket, which was nowhere in sight. So, I ducked inside a library to read about the rainy season or year as is the case in that area. Giggling at my jumbled thoughts encountered in that dream, I reminded myself to pack a light coat even though our vacation occurred in July.
Staring out the window from the airport to our transient home in the recreation area, I asked, “Where are the mountains?”
“You can’t see them on rainy days because they have glaciers and are as white as the foggy conditions right, now.”
“I see,” but really didn’t understand because the Smokey Mountains were green and lush as well as very visible in most weather conditions. I kept this idea to myself while searching the skies for signs of the peaks.
After stopping at the gate to check grandpa’s credentials, the van followed a winding path through huge, majestic evergreens. My rambling thoughts- about their beautiful image blocking the hilly terrain- were interrupted by grandma, “Turn right at the library or you’ll miss our campsite, again!” The mention of the library took me off guard so I listened to them argue about the best way to their travel trailer.
As grandpa parked his van, grandma warned, “Pull on your jackets; it’s colder than you think outside.” She was right; for summer the fifty degree weather took us southerners by surprise.
The bigger shock was my dream being reality. How did I know all this stuff having never stepped foot in this area in my life? I was guided by God, He knew the white glacier mountains would be colder than expected as well as the fact that the campground sat near the Tacoma Military Base’s library. God’s Spirit guides us until Heaven.
A trusting and guided spirit
Harmonizing in the Spirit
I recently wrote a friend an e-mail about my accident because he was going through hard times. To this day, that intersection- where I faced death- makes me think about bypassing it and taking a different way home. But, I try to face it head on to get over the fear.
I don’t remember all of my car wreck but a few things come to mind. Right after the other driver plowed through my vehicle, in that intersection, my body felt queasy anytime my eyes opened. It felt worse and worse- soon after the accident. So I shut them keeping them closed tight.
I remember parts of the ambulance, helicopter ride. All my injuries that made them call for that emergency transportation caused me extreme nausea; I continued to keep my eyes closed even while coherent. It felt better that way. However, I was awake and aware while in the air; I heard the paramedics and people on the radio repeating that I coded. At that point in time, I felt light as if my soul detached from my nausea-ridden body but there was a peace not a fear in that knowledge. It wasn’t scary just bright and kind of nice to be hovering away from my physical pain.
During the flight, I heard myself singing a religious song. I felt calm and happy enough to sing. It may have been my mind or soul enjoying the tune because the crew just kept administering medical aide trying to revive me.
Later, my dad said that he heard the same song that my soul sung; it came on the radio as he raced to the teaching hospital to see me- alive- hopefully. Unaware of my peaceful reverie, separated by miles, my father harmonized with my soul belting out the same exact tune while sensing that God guided him safely to the trauma center.
During the ordeal, I remember being very serene as well as aware that if I permanently coded (died) that my family and girlfriend would be in MORE PAIN emotionally then my body currently, physically suffered. As we landed at the hospital, I was very aware of the lifesaving activities taking place even though my brain felt semi-comatose, in a coma, or worse. Quickly, nurses and staff raced to me to help; they cut off my clothes and prepped me on the run for surgery and other life saving procedures.
One nurse kept chanting, “We can’t let this one die; we have to save this one.” God lovingly agreed restoring me to life.
The Not at Fault Driver and Soul
FYI- 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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