Evelyn's story

I cant even tell you what my mom has been through! The hardest life I've ever imagined, as a child, in the war in Germany, seeing all of that, and then the Americans bombing Germany, and her grandmother's house bombed, and her dad in the German army  and being able to get them out of there and safely to Austria.

It was hell for a little girl!   The war finally ended in 1945, when she was 10, and thing did get better, but not much better.  My mom told me, even civilians were put in prison camps, she was in one, too.  Many bad things happened.  It wasn't the German people who did this, it was who we know, did this--the Nazi regime, and not the people of Germany.  Many of the war stories in books aren't all true--most are, but the government at the time did this to its own people.

My mom grew up, meets my dad,  an American soldier,  and falls in love and gets married.   They dreamed of a child--yes, me!  My mom had to say goodbye to my dad, however--he had to go back to America.  She can't go, the doctors say in Germany, because she has Tuberculosis, so my dad goes back to America and tried to get my mom to America.  It can't happen, because of red tape.


It was all bogus because she didn't actually have tuberculosis, but my mom is a German bride with an American husband and that was a big problem after the war. So, my mom stays in Germany, and I was born December 19th.  The day before my birth in Germany,  my dad was burned at work in NJ, at the plant he worked in.  He was there on his day off, hoping to make more overtime to be able to afford a bedroom set for when his wife and baby came.  Mom found out on the day I was born that he was hurt badly, and he found that day he had a baby girl. My grandfather said that he was badly burned and in great amounts of pain, but when he found out he had a little baby Evelyn, he smiled. 

My dad died two days before President Eisenhower signed a bill which allowed my mom and me to come to America. My mom didn't know he died until she got off the plane in America.  The story was in the news about us--I have newspaper articles from all over the world, about this story! It was the biggest story of the time.  

From that day, however, my mom has lived a difficult life, full of sorrow.  She is 72 yrs old, and we live a poor working life. Although her family was in Germany she stayed in America, for me, to have a better life-- she promised
my dad that. My mom deserves a medal for her life.  If I could give my mom one thing, besides all my love, it would be, to give her a little happiness in this life, and her to know her life isn't in vain. She went through war, bombings, and prison camp. Our story made President Eisenhower sign a bill for me and my Mom to be Americans, and we are so proud to be.

True story! ~o~  Evelyn
 

 

 

Losing a Daughter-Gaining an Angel

by Edward N.
 
Four years ago, I lost my lovely daughter, JoAnne, age 36-after a long illness.

Her passing was sudden-gone in an instant-and we never had a chance to say "Good-bye."  Hers was a long battle with a bladder disease-lots of pain. I felt helpless and asked God to help her in whatever way He chose. He did-He took her to Heaven and she is in His care and at Peace. But, my heart is forever broken as I miss her with every heart beat.
 
I have been a migraine sufferer for forty years.  JoAnne always worried about that. one night, about two months after JoAnne passed into Heaven, I was very sick with a migraine-couldn't get out of bed. I saw a bright light in my room-no one was there.  I put my head back on the pillow and "felt" JoAnne's fingers brush over my forehead-like a magnet pulling the pain away-never to return.  What a peaceful, beautiful feeling came over me.  My migraines have NOT returned-it has been more than four years since that night-no more headaches-first time since I was twelve years old that I have been headache free.  There is no doubt that this is a very special gift from my daughter.

 JoAnne visits me all the time now.  I feel her gentle touch to let me know that she is an active part of my life.  Just like today-I felt her presence when i decided to write this story-she approves.
 So, I did lose her that dreadful day but, God gave me the gift of a very special guardian angel-who better than my beautiful daughter, JoAnne.  She guides me through each day and what a joy it will be to behold her beautiful face when we meet again in Heaven.
 Thank you, JoAnne. I love you.

 

Diana's story:

We arrived at our favorite mountain cabin on Christmas Eve of 2003. This particular accommodation provided a kitchenette, loft, cable TV, and indoor Jacuzzi tub. The back deck overlooked a steep, wooded hill with a pleasantly loud, rushing creek barely visible through the trees. The evergreen shrubs flanking the entrance of the cabin twinkled with multicolor lights and a holiday mug filled with candy was centered on our kitchen table welcoming us. Since we usually spent Christmas with our family, we were unaware of the charming decorations provided by the owners at this time of year. So why were we here? The fact that our beautiful baby boy was born quiet and still brought us to the cabin in the mountains. This was where we would spend our first Christmas without our baby. 

My name is Diana Gardner-Williams and I am originally from Buffalo, NY. I moved to North Carolina to study Landscape Architecture and decided to make my home here. The weather was more conducive to my career choice. I also met my wonderful husband Todd and we married in 2000. It wasn’t until 2002 that we decided to expand our family. I had originally planned to try for a baby in May, but then decided to try in August. I have always been a very planned and organized individual and thought having birthday parties in spring would be ideal. There would be an explosion of flowers, no mosquitoes, and the weather would be tolerable. Finally, after 6 long months of charting and taking my temperature, we saw two pink lines. It was apparent that I could not plan when my baby would be born. Our child was scheduled for a fall arrival, another favorite season of mine.

It was a very exciting time for us because several of our friends were also pregnant. The excitement faded for a while because my morning sickness lasted into the night. I never threw up, although maybe hurling my cookies would have lessened the discomfort. Constant nausea made me unpleasant to be around. It wasn’t until week 12 that the morning sickness passed and I was scheduled to see the doctor. At the appointment I was able to see the little heartbeat for the first time, and wow, it was amazing. That little organ was created by us only 3 months ago! The baby and me were given a good report and were scheduled to see the doctor in 2 more months, hopefully to find out the sex.

My girlfriend and her husband owned their own sonogram machine, so I knew we would find out the sex beforehand. Todd and I anxiously drove to their office when I was 15 weeks along to see our little baby. Unfortunately we couldn’t see the sex, but we did see a very active child. The entire 30 minutes was on tape, and I couldn’t wait to show family members what a beautiful child we had.

My husband came with me to the doctor’s appointment where we would find out if the little one would wear blue or pink. I was very nervous because both my mother and mother-in-law expressed their hopes for a little girl. We claimed we didn’t care either way, but secretly I was hoping for a boy. We stared at the monitor like 2 kids staring at a glass candy jar. We could see that something was in there that we wanted, but the packaging camouflaged what it really was. Then she pointed toward the screen to a white, opaque section. It was a penis. There is was, so tiny, and the affirmation we were waiting for. We were thrilled, blue, blue, and more blue. Tanner would be my parent’s third grandson and my mother-in-law’s first grandbaby. I knew that they were somewhat disappointed, but would love him regardless.

It seemed like the entire pregnancy was moving from one aliment to the next. The first three months it was the nausea, and then it was the round ligament stretching and finally the severe backaches. Towards the last few weeks I endured horrible indigestion and probably bruised ribs from Tanner’s kicks. Truthfully, I did not enjoy my pregnancy and I couldn’t wait to have him out. I would later find out that I had stage 4 arthritis in my knees and carrying extra weight added to the stress. I would definitely take a rest from being pregnant after Tanner was born so my body could somewhat heal.

Tanner was due to arrive October 14th. However, on my husband’s birthday I started having contractions that were closer together. I had bought Todd a gift and decided to let him open it in case this is the day Tanner would come. The contractions now were less than 2 minutes apart, so I had Todd call the doctor for guidance. We were instructed to come in for a check. I called my best friend Evelyn to come over and join us at the hospital. My bags had been packed for 2 months and everything in its place, so we easily slipped out of the house in a timely fashion at 2am. I was so excited and felt in my heart that Tanner would be born on Todd’s birthday.

The hospital was incredibly quiet and still as we checked in. We were quickly led to a small examining room to check the progress of labor. I undressed and lay on the table while Todd stood by my side like a proud father to be. My cervix was still closed, but obviously having contractions. The ultrasound technician rolled her machine beside me and poured the cold lubricant on my belly. For some reason there were more nurses in the room now, and the technician just stared at the monitor expressionless. Another nurse put an oxygen mask on my face and I was horrified. Finally someone said that the baby is probably hiding and giving me oxygen might increase his activity. That never happened. After seeing panic in my eyes, Todd asked if Tanner was moving. The technician kept her eyes on the monitor and said simply, “No, I’m sorry.”

At that moment I entered into another world that was so unfamiliar to me. This was a place that I had no control over and I could not plan my next move. I had never felt this much pain, loneliness, or the need to grasp for air like this in my life. Could this be real? We held him, kissed him and loved him, where is he? We would never be the same. We did expand our family, but instead of having a living son, we had a beautiful angel named Tanner.

We were inundated with information on how to survive the first year. Most of the bereavement books and literature suggested taking time for ourselves and gracefully declining family gatherings until we were more comfortable. That is exactly what we decided to do. Thanksgiving was spent at a friend’s home and for Christmas, the two of us drove to our favorite mountain cabin in Spruce Pine.

I packed candles, a lullaby cd, pictures of Tanner, and everything else reminiscent of him to create a shrine. I just wanted to think and feel everything about him during our stay. My eyes were so sore and red from crying so much.

Todd suggested that we get some fresh air and drive into the city of Ashville and shop. On our way to town I expressed to Todd that I was upset that so many of our friends and family members felt that they had been contacted by Tanner. The bear that played Ave Maria, the street sign “Tanner Williams,” the parent yelling for Tanner at the park. Being his parents, I couldn’t understand why we weren’t given any signs from him. I told Todd that I wanted my big sign.

We spent several hours in town and the weather was gorgeous. I remember the quaint shops and brick-laid alleys that added to its charm. The sun sets very fast in the mountains, so we headed back to our cabin around 5. While staring out of the window of our car, something caught my eye. My heart started to flutter and the palms of my hands were dripping with sweat. I was briefly in shock and had to snap out of it fast to tell Todd to pull over and stop. There it was so high in the sky that I could not possibly miss it. It was a billboard said “TANNER.” The hair on the back of my neck stood on its end and Todd sat quietly gazing at the sign. I quickly searched for the camera to take a picture, just in case it disappeared in a flash. After sitting on the side of the road for 10 minutes, we slowly drove off.

We were meant to see that billboard at that precise time in our lives. The sequence of events played in perfect harmony. We were there because of Tanner and he blessed us with one of the biggest signs available to man. Seeing the billboard gave us so much hope and joy to keep going.  Feeling his presence at just the right time spoke worlds to me. Our son being born quiet and still put life into a much different perspective for me. I now view our time here as just a stepping-stone. I truly believe we will all be together again and Tanner’s beautiful song will keep playing for me until I can hold him forever.

Peace Love and Hugs from Above

Diana Gardner-Williams

Diana@justacloudaway.com

 

 

 

Julie's story:

 ~~In April of 1985, my father passed away after being in the hospital for four days, after he had suffered a heart attack at the age of 75.  The day before he died, my then pregnant daughter and I went to visit him.  My father was 'not' a demonstrative man by any means, but as soon as we walked into his room, his arm reached out and with his hand spread, he asked my daughter, can I touch your stomach?  (This would have been his first great-grandchild)  She said certainly he could, and he place his hand on her stomach as if to 'touch' the little one inside.  I was 'taken aback', as he 'never' approached me in that manner and I had had two daughters.

~~On June 22nd, 1985, just weeks later, my first granddaughter, Ashley Julie Thomas was born in the 'same hospital' that my father had died in.  Ashley was perfect in every way and a joy to behold.  She grew to be a beautiful young woman, along with my other three granddaughters and one grandson, a grandmother couldn't have been more blessed.

~~Ashley had a 'nickname' when she was young....'HAPPY ASHY'....I  had it embroidered on a little red shirt for her when she was little.  Ashley packed 25 hours into every day!  She started dance lessons at an early age, as did her sister and two cousins.  For years, it was dance lessons, costumes, dance recitals...Her sister and brother and her two cousins began venturing into soccer, but Ashley stayed with dance....Advance dance in High School and Ballet in College.....she just 'loved' to dance.  She had a devilish laugh and loved to play practical jokes and she was beautiful.  She worked at a tanning salon, graduated from high school and started college. 

~She decided to become a teacher, so she took child development classes, but still stayed in the 'arts' with ballet and even took 'theatrical make-up'.  She absolutely 'loved' school....she would call me after school, at nine o'clock at night on her cell phone and excitedly say to me, "Oh Gram, I LOVE school, I could go forever....I LOVE my teachers....then she would say "I'm going to the gym now." I would say to her "Ashley, it's nine o'clock at night, why don't you go home and get some rest, you have to go to work in the morning and she would say "No Gram, I 'have' to go...I LOVE yoga.....Ashley LOVED life.....there was no doubt about it.  Even with all the drama that went along with it, she still had a zest for life unparalleled with anyone I knew.

She had a 'love' in her life, but when he went away to San Diego State to live on campus, they both knew that their relationship would be hard, so they separated, but she 'always' said, I 'know' Garrett and I will be together.  I thought her very 'brave' to go that 'route', as Garrett was a gorgeous, tall, blue eyed, football player whom she could have 'lost' to any pretty girl!!  But, Ash had a confidence about her, and you could tell by the way she walked and held her shoulders, that if she said "I'm gonna walk on the moon, you'd believe her!! So she went on with her life and was on the go all the time....In fact, she went to school 'all day' on Wednesdays...but she couldn't just go to school that day, she decided to go to the mall for a little while 'before' school.

~~She asked her dad to check her oil, as she had a little leak in her old '91 Mazda and was calling me on her cell phone to remind me to drop off that poster board I got her the day before for a class project.  So, I drove over and dropped it off...she got it out of my back seat and started to go back up the walkway to the house and then turned, with her pony tail swinging, smiled that beautiful smile and hollered back "Thanks Gram"....and I drove away.  She left the house fifteen minutes later, drove around the corner and proceeded through a green light on her way to the mall and a seventeen year old girl, who had left school on her lunch time to 'race' home to get her work uniform and had dropped her cell phone, was reaching for it and ran right into the intersection on a red light.

~~Ash was catapulted into the air, rolling several times, running up a light pole and landed upside down.  It took 25 minutes for paramedics to cut her out of her car as she was hanging upside-down by her seatbelt.  There is too much left of this story from here on, you know?, the funeral, gutwrenching grief, even after almost one year, nothing has changed....it's just like yesterday, our family is destroyed by one persons stupidity....We are in that 'club', no one wants to join....But one thing I found interesting, and it's why I'm telling this short story is that........a few months after Ashley left us...I was lying in bed, thinking about my Dad and realizing that he had died in April also....It was around midnight, but I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I got up and turned on the light and almost feverishly began hunting through papers looking for my Dad's Death Certificate...... my hands were shaking as I opened the folded paper and I read the date......APRIL 13, 1985, at 10:20 AM.......Ashley was hit at 11:29 AM, APRIL 13, 2005....Twenty years to the day, almost to the hour.....I don't know, I just wonder, does it mean something............Today I wear a gold necklace I had made that says "THANKS GRAM", Garrett was Ashley's Poll Bearer.  We see him when he comes home on school breaks.....He always comes to visit us.  We tell Ashley stories and I see his eyes well up with tears.....Ashley's last entry in her journal was "I love Garrett, I love Myself and I love God"......My biggest hurt is watching my daughter, Ashley's mother, as she drags herself through each day and remembering the day my dad was 'so' excited to 'touch' the little one inside.......

Julie 
Ashley's Grandmother

Thank God for your ability George and our amazing visit with Ashley and my father in January of this year and for "Walking in the Garden of Souls"....I refer to it as my Bible

 

Renee's Story:

I have found myself on a spiritual journey this past year after the physical loss of my 18 year old son from a car accident. I went through the normal stages of grief, but I had to know so badly that he was ok and that life continues in another form. I found myself reading and researching  on afterlife, including all the books George Anderson has written. I started receiving signs and communication from my son in thought. I have had every extraordinary experience written. I have documented everything and plan to write a book to help others that have been through grief and so much pain. I am communicating with Stephen on another level. The mind, the consciousness, the personality, the true essence survives physical death. I know the blueprint of my son. I feel as if I raised my vibration and he lowered his. Call it the Secret, Laws of the Universe, putting that positive thought, energy out there and getting a positive result. I know I am being guided with everything I do. He had a special number since he was a child, that is constantly saying Hi Mom and confirming the thought through the end result of my action telling me I am on the right path. I find this to be a true gift. I believe this is coming from another dimension and I am suppose to be telling my story over and over again, to turn a tragedy into something positive.

For the past five months I have been feeling his energy everyday. I feel it on the side of my face where he use to touch me since he was a child. I remember you said in one of your books that God is really good to parents that have lost children, I have been receiving this goodness and I have to share it with others in pain. Thank you for all your inspiration.

 
Renee

 

 

from Nicole:

When people think of New Years they think of parties, laughter, and celebrations. On New Years day of 2004 my world turned upside down. My little sister Ashley tragically died that day. She was 15 but looked 25. She was on her way to be a model. Ashley already had pending contracts with aspiring modeling agencies. She was only 21 months younger than me.
            My family and I were awakened by Ashley’s boyfriend that night. He said “I think Ashley is dead,” and those words continue to haunt my dreams to this day. When I ran into her room everything felt like it was put into slow motion. I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying, all I could see was Ashley lying on her back in her closet. I kept thinking, “She is just unconscious and will wake up in a second. She has to wake up!” Ashley couldn’t die; she was supposed to be the next top model.
            For weeks everyone walked around like zombies mortified by shock. It wasn’t long before ugly rumors and driving questions started, like that Ashley had taken her own life, and that she drank too much and didn’t know what she was doing; but the worst conclusion was Ashley’s boyfriend had killed her. I have always questioned the boyfriend’s demeanor towards my sister. I even suggested that he would end up killing her if their unhealthy relationship went any further. However, it seems easy to label someone a killer but it isn’t. I knew her boyfriend for a year. It is so hard to imagine him actually doing it. So I began to wonder with the rest of my family. Did he actually kill Ashley, was he even capable of murder, or was this all a horrible accident?
            For almost three years, questions of my little sister’s death have haunted me. My life literally felt stalled and seemed it would never change. My parents drove themselves crazy attempting to find just a hint of what happened that night. I not only grieved for the loss of my sister, but I also grieved for the altered life of my parents. The topic of every story was what happened to Ashley; and the special occasions I experienced like my graduation for example, were turned into upsetting events. Not only did I deal with keeping my grieving quiet but I also felt guilty for wanting my parents back, and worst of all I was afraid to live my life because I thought something bad would happen.
However, I wanted my parents to feel the peace I felt with Ashley. I felt she just wanted me to move on. They needed to know she just wants their happiness and to learn forgiveness. When my family I finally got the opportunity to see George Anderson I felt a relief I couldn’t explain. To know and feel my sister express how happy it would make her for us to live our lives free of guilt was tremendous. I didn’t feel I needed to know about what happened to Ashley because I felt I already knew, but George helped bring the only closure my parents will probably ever get. Ashley’s life left a shadow of mystery and a sorrow that will never go away. The way George captured Ashley’s personality made me know she was right there beside me. I can’t explain the feelings I felt when Ashley said she was always beside me like a guardian angel. She was also 100% behind my happiness and that I had my own spiritual journey to continue. I think the biggest joy was that my parents finally heard how Ashley felt and learned forgiveness is okay because she didn’t blame anyone for her death.
            George helped bring closure that my parents desperately needed. Moreover, he brought a different kind of closure for me. My parents have finally started to live again. They now know Ashley didn’t take her own life and that she wants them to live there lives being happy and free of guilt.
            Ashley was my little sister and my best friend. I think George has a beautiful gift, and I want to thank him for helping me and my parents continue our own journey in life.

 

 

Tracy's story:

This is the story of my mommy....

    My mom was and will always be the best person that God has ever put on this place we call Earth.  My mom was very unique, she never found anything bad in a person and accepted everybody for who they where.  My mom was always the jeans and t-shirt kind of person, long, straight hair (black and grey), hardly ever put makeup on (when she did it was a little bit of blue eyeshadow), and she loved her 'Loves Baby Soft' perfume.  She was lucky to have a natural tan also (not pasty white like myself).  She was so beautiful.  Not everybody thought so.  Her opinon, and I quote her, "If you don't like it, don't look".
    Now that you all have a good sense to who my mom was, I would like to share this past year and almost two months...
It all started in November of 2004.  My mom found out she had pneumonia.  The doctors said to come back January 3,2005 for another x-ray.  She did.  Well now all of a sudden she has lung cancer.  The doctors told her that before even doing a biopsy.  Within two and a half months she had five biopsies done, numerous CAT scans, and a lot of blood drawn! (This is  a lady who never went to the doctor since she had her appedix out when I was just little).  After her first "inconclusive" results came back from the first biopsy she had to go through, she got in a mass depression.  My mom would sit at the kitchen table and look outside at all the many birds that came to eat the birdseed my dad would put out.  She did this day in and day out until she passed away.  Everytime she had to go get another biopsy done she would be scared to death, but it gave her a little hope.  She did this for two months.  Then my dad (my mom's hero), decided to take my mom to a bigger city to get a second opinion.  The doctor did a PET scan on my mom and it showed she did have cancer and it was blocking the air from getting into her left lung.  By now she had gone down hill fast, but when she got her conclusive results she died eight days later.  My dad always said "Be careful of what you say, it is going to go fast if the test come back positive she has cancer." The doctors didn't even give her any radiation or chemo until three days befor she died.  She was practically in her coma state.  I think they could have done more, sooner, like the PET scan.
    The last time I seen my mom was the Monday before she died.  We lived 600 miles away from her, I have two young kids, and I couldn't leave them anymore.  (It was just an excuse so I didn't have to watch her die.)  I have more regrets than anybody will ever know I have.  I will never forgive myself until I get some kind of message from her that she tells me she understands.  I won't ever forget my husband telling me to go.  He told me I would never be able to forgive myself.  If I only would have listened to him.  When I told my mommy "I'll see you later.", I gave her the biggest hug knowing that was it.  I thought I would still be able to talk to her, but never got to again.  That Monday night she went to the hospital (she couldn't breath), they put her in ICU where she couldn't have any phone calls.  I would call the nurses and tell them to tell my mom how much I loved her.  I don't know to this day if they ever did.  I will NEVER know.  Two days before my mom died the doctor's put my mom in a regular room, knowing that she was so close to dying so my dad could stay with her 24-7 without having restricted visiting hours.  The day before she died I called my dad at the hospital and asked him to hold the phone to her ear.  When he did I could hear her gasping for breath, something I will never forget!  I told her how much I love her, let my kids tell her they love her too.  All she ever said she wanted to live for were my kids.  The next day my dad called and said "It's done".
    This past year I have been in a massive funk!  Bad wife, bad mom.  Thank God I have such a good family to help me throught it!  What a roller coaster of emotions! 
    I believe my mommy has come to me many times!  About a month after she died my daughter and I were in our kitchen singing kids songs.  All of a sudden out of nowhere my windchimes hanging in my kitchen chimed.  They never chimed before.  They just kept getting louder and louder.  It caught my attention.  They stopped all of a sudden as soon as the song was done.  I told my little girl (4 years old at the time), "That's Grandma singing with us".  I left the kitchen.  I heard my daughter say "Grandma sing with me."  Right then the windchimes started chiming again.  Another time my 4 year old was at my mother in law's house taking a bath.  My mother in law let her play in the bath for a little bit.  When she came back into the bathroom my girl was having a full conversation with somebody.  My mother in law asked who she was talking to.  My girl said "I'm talking to Grandma (my mom), can't you see her?"  And I think she comes to me as a dove.  A bird I have never noticed comes and sits and watches me everytime I am having a bad day.  One time it sat on my deck and I was able to get close enough to take a great picture, the dove looked right into the camera and didn't even get scared.
    Just these past two weeks I have felt a little peace in my life.  My dad has been dating the same women since November.  I just spoke with her for the first time two weeks ago.  We were talking about something and she said "You know your dad."  I would've gotten mad, but those are the exact words my mom used to say all the time.  My husband has me convinced my mom had a part in my dad meeting this woman.  My dad has always been a loner.  He would come home from work day after day to an empty house.  He said he had to do something about it or dig his own grave.  He got so lonely.  My mom's best friend said she is a very nice woman.  Knowing my mom she would probably like her too.  She liked everybody.
    I have always wanted my mom to come to me in my dreams.  One time she did in the beginning (ever so briefly).  Today I took a nap and had the best dream of my life!  My mom came to me in my dream.  She literally came down from heaven to hang out with me.  We had such a good time!!!  This dream had to last at least a good hour!  I truly believe she is able to come now because I have had time to grieve, and time to accept her death, and understand I will see her in Heaven again one day.  She will be the first one to greet me.  I know it.
    My sister is going to New York to see George soon.  I pray so much that she sends me a message!  I don't get to go with her, so I hope so much she sends a message to me personally.  I would love for her to tell me she understands why I wasn't at her bedside when she died.  I would love for her to tell me it is ok that my dad is dating.  I will just love it if George is able to communicate with my mommy.  Let's cross our fingers and hearts!
    This was the story of my mommy, my best friend!!xxoo
 
Traci           

 A few months later, Traci added this postscript:

Here is an update since I first wrote about my mom . 
 
My sister saw George in May and came back with an amazing recording of my mom's messages.....
 
My mom sent a message to tell us it is ok for my dad to move on (it was said in the exact words in the way my dad has tried explaining it to me).  I really needed to hear  it was ok, then for it to be told in my dad's exact words lets me know my mom came through and I can now accept my dad's fiance and be happy for them and the life he now has to look forward to, instead of the lonely life he was living before he met Barbara (a genuine lady that I truely think makes my dad happy and would do anything in the world for my dad.)
 
My mom also sent us other messages that have truly helped me this last month to be so happy now.  Yes, there is still a peice of my heart that will never by filled again until the day I meet up with my mom, but now the hole isn't as sharp as it once was a very short time ago.  I don't dwell on her death as much as I did up until the time my sister came back from New York.
 
We also got the message that she is with us more than we know.  Well shortly after my sister's trip I was driving home from work late at night and a BIG dump truck cut right in front of me.  Something made me slow down and avoid a bad situation.  I missed a wreck by two seconds!  I know that my mom was with me.  Now I notice a lot of things around me happening that I really feel my mom is right there with me and my family.
 
I could go on and on but there are so many thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart that sometines it gets overwhelming to express out loud.  What matters is my mom knows how much I desperately miss her and I know I will once again be able to give my mom a great big hug and hang out with her like we did when she came to town.  Until then I need to live my life to its fullest, be a great mom to my kids, and the kind of wife to my husband that he deserves.
 
Thank you George for sharing with others the special gift you have.  You have helped me so much to now deal with my mom's death in a better way.
 
I love you mommy!  xxxooo 

 

Margo's Story

A widow at 28 is not something I thought that I would ever be. Who would ever have expected that the man that I had been in love with since I was twelve, would leave this life before the age of thirty. Our story was extraordinary. People couldn’t believe that Junior High (and High School) Sweethearts could be together and get married. We met when I was in 7th grade and he was a freshman in high school. Our relationship was great at every point, and we were married on our 10th anniversary of our first day “dating”. It was a beautiful ceremony and the blush on my cheeks was 100% my happiness radiating, no make-up required. I was planning a vow renewal for our 5th anniversary complete with Elvis in a drive-thru in Las Vegas, Nevada, but he didn’t make it.

December 18, 2004 my angel left the earth. He was riding the quad that he just had to have, a few feet in front of me, when he crossed a road and was hit by a mini-van. I didn’t see the impact, but I saw my beautiful husband, broken, lying in the road. I looked in his eyes and saw none of the light that was him. They worked on him there for an hour or so. The Medivac helicopter came and they sent it away. I held on to hope, and prayed that God not take my angel, but it was no use. They told me, after taking him to the hospital, that he didn’t make it. The police took me to the hospital where I went in to see the empty pot where once a beautiful flower had bloomed. That was no longer my husband in that room.

Since that day, I had been looking for some sign of him. My belief was that we were so connected that even death wouldn’t stop us from communicating and I was beginning to question my own beliefs. I only remember dreaming of him once. I was doing laundry in my dream, and realized that he was there, and that he wouldn’t be there in the morning. I spent time in my dream with my husband, and said good-bye before waking the next day. Our anniversary was 2-13, and I have always seen that number everywhere; I buy a soda and a candy bar $2.13, look at the clock 2:13pm, I even see it written on signs when driving. It always used to make me smile, but the time between Scott’s death and what would have been our 5th anniversary seeing that number made me cry. I now realize that was Scott’s way of saying ‘hi’. I took that number back by tattooing it on my shoulder, in Chinese, that way only people whom I decide to tell my story will know what it means.

I met someone and found a relationship far earlier than my internal timeline expected. I knew that Scott would have wanted me to be happy, and the thought of hurting me would have driven him crazy (he used to freak out if I had a cold). Even knowing how much he loved me, and that he would want me to be happy, I still felt a little guilty about how soon I met someone. I justified it to myself; he wants me to be happy, and I didn’t ask for this, I shouldn’t have to be punished after already losing the love of my life, etc, but part of me still needed Scott’s permission.

I had a phone session with George. This provided exactly what I needed. He identified my husband, and other family members by name, and situations that he couldn’t have known. Most importantly he told me that my husband knew that “someone has crossed my path” and called him by name. He told me that it is okay, that Scott is not jealous, and that he wants me to be happy, exactly what I needed to hear. He also said that he has our child, who I lost to miscarriage, and that he is very close with my grandfather Mark in the afterlife, who died eight months before Scotty. Several other things came up, and I cried for two hours after my session, but I came out with a sense of relief and support, and now I know that I have just not recognized that Scotty is around me, but he is still near me, and surrounding me with love always.

Margo

Crystal's Story

My son Isaiah was born on November 7, 1994, I knew as soon as I looked at him that there was something wrong. He was put in the NIC unit for about a week , he was having trouble breathing and they found out that he had a heart mummer. On his  six month check up , his  doctor sent us to a cardic doctor.  This was to be one of the  hardest days of what was to come. I was told that Isaiah had a condition called Marfans-Syndrome with Mitral-valve prolapse with Aortic Root Dialation.  The doctor told me that Isaiah could die at any time. He was so strong, there was nothing that could keep him down. His first open heart surgery was at the age of five, he was not afraid, He told us that everything would be alright, Following this he had three other open heart surgeries, and  several eye operations, due to the Marfans, his eye sight was not that good. He had both legs operated on, because his bones were curving, and through it all he was an inspiration, never crying, always looking on the bright side of things.  I remember him telling us all the time that he was the prophet  Isaiah, and that the book of Isaiah was named after him. In September of 2003 I took Isaiah to see Dr. Baffa, Oh how he loved her. Isaiah was having problems with heart palpations, it was decided that he need another  heart operation because he was having so much leakage in his valves.  I remember this time him crying and saying he did not want the surgery. With a brave face, I told him that he would be all better. On they way to the hospital for his surgery, he told me and his father that when he died not to worry for he would be with God. Out of fear I told him don't talk like that, If only I knew that he was telling us of what  was to come. After his surgery, they told us everything when good.  Isaiah spent his 9th birthday in the hospital, they gave him a party with cake, how happy he was. All the nurses would take turn with him, they said that he was such a joy, always laughing and telling crazy jokes.

We brought Isaiah ho me one week before Christmas, only to turn around Christmas night and take him back, he was having heart palpations again. After staying over night we came home. On December 27 we were back at the hospital again this time to stay. They said that he had to have a cauterization done. This was to be the longest days of my life, sitting there and not being able to do anything. The days all started running together, Isaiah spent new years eve in ICU, the nurses said they never laugh so hard, that it was one of the best times that had. Isaiah was brought back to the room on January 3rd. We though everything was   going to be okay.  On January 9 was his older brothers birthday, we took his brother out to eat, Isaiah at this time was not eating much, He had called his dad on the cell phone and told him bring him something to eat. He hardly ate anything. The next day Dr. Baffa came in and told us that they were going to put him on a low sodium diet because he was holding a lot of fluid, This was not going to end well. That night Isaiah kept telling us and begging us for water, we were told not to  give him anything but  ice chips, I kept calling the nurse and telling here something was wrong with him. I remember sitting by his bed and telling him to calm down and I yelled God I am so tired. Isaiah said I am sorry mommy, go back to sleep I'll be alright. That next morning, he was put back into ICU, they told us that they had to put in a breathing tube and medicate him. In the back of my mind I think that I knew that he was not going to come home with us.

I met a man name Friar Victor, at the hospital, he would come and sit and talk to me. We  were than told that Isaiah heart was very weak and that they were going to put him on the heart transplant list, only that never happen, due all his surgeries his antibodies would probably reject the heart. He was so strong and such a loving boy.  On January 29, 2003  my precious son of 9 went home to be with god, just like he told us he would. I remember telling my husband that we could not have kept him here,  that he was tired and I remember leaning over him and holding him and in a blink of an eye after telling him that we would be fine he was gone. I was amazed at the impact that this child of mind had on so many people, young and old, I truly believe that he was something special sent to us. Our lives are now forever changed since all of this has happened. I have received many visit and signs from Isaiah, and I hope to have many more to come. Please all know that your children have never left, they are always with you, they hear you, they love you, I wish everyone  who are traveling on  this journey of grief to know that you are not alone. We are all waking together.

A week to the day before Isaiah passed, he open his eyes and called to us, He was staring  at a corner in the ceiling, and i ask him  Isaiah what are you looking at? His reply to me and his father was, "Don't you see them?" I kept looking and I told him that I didn't  see anything, He than said look at all those kids playing in the field, He than gave me kisses and told me he loved me and he put his  fist up to his dad face and gave it a little tug, I think it was then that I knew  he was not going to be with us much longer. That night they called us down to ICU, they told us that they didn't think he was going to  be with us much longer, I begged him  not to go, and he didn't. A week later on the exact same day we told him that it was okay-- he could fly for us-- and in a blink of an eye he was gone. 

On they day of his memorial, my niece who was driving in  front of us, started beeping the horn as soon as she turn on her car, Isaiah's favorite song was playing. Shortly after the service we let off balloons, about 350 of them the day was raining and cold, as soon as the balloons we let go the sun came out and the rain stopped. That night my husband and I slept in Isaiah's bed and we both felt as if someone has laid down next to me, I told my husband, its Isaiah, he used to always come in and lay  next to me. 

We decided to go to my sisters house for a couple of a days and on the way, our radio starting changing channels, the only song we could hear was the song that was sung at his memorial service, that was the first time we had ever heard it on the radio. About a week after we got home,I had gone to sleep, and I had a dream that I  was running   with my son  on a stone road and we were laughing and he was saying look mom I am running, because on earth he couldn't run as well as other children.  As we were running up a head of us  was a big tree, surrounding us a field of flowers, I woke up to my son  giving me a kiss, I felt is just as I had felt it when he was here, I was crying and I told my husband that it was Isaiah's way of telling me that he was still here.  I  have other visits but this one was the best gift I could have ever received from him.