He saw angels standing at his window sill in the hospital room. Large angels that were waiting on him. The fragile hairless man who stood up was ravaged by the disease that had him. Yet, he jumped out of bed to see his companions who would, along with his father escort him to the otherside. He had never seen an angel before, there were three waiting on him, their wings outstretched, all in white gowns, with crowns of gold on their heads were waiting for one of their beloved souls to cross. He asked if I saw them. I had to see them! They were so beautiful!
A few hours later, this fragile man was comatose muttering in his sleep, “How are you going to take me home? Yes, I want to go home. How are we going to get there? Piggy back?” then he laughed.
I knew he was talking to his father, my Granddaddy, who was present in the room, ready to retrieve his son. He had died about 12 years earlier of a different form of the disease that had my father.
I stepped out after that to refresh myself and left the hospital grounds for a while. Suddenly upon walking through the parking garage tunnel that led to the hospital, I knew he was going. I innately knew my father was not to live much longer. A voice whispered to me, hurry, just hurry. Running to meet death, I had to tell him goodbye.
Holding his hand while his breaths were shallow, strained and heavy, gargled by the mucous in his chest. I asked him to check on me from time to time, and to tell God and Jesus I said hello, that I loved him dearly. I always would.
Not yet fully able to come to grips with his death which was so imminent, I held back what I really wanted to say and that was to say how lucky I was to have him as a loving father, one who stood by me all those years and who only wanted the best for me. No girl could have been as lucky as me.
He squeezed my hand. In that moment, I knew he could hear me. He knew. There is life in a comatose state before we pass. Thank God he knew how much I loved him.
With all the family around, he arose from his coma to ask what was happening with his body. My sister, a physician, had to tell him, “Daddy, you are in the hospital. He asked, “why?”
“Because Daddy, you are dying of lung cancer.”
He nodded as though he understood, being a doctor himself. He then said he loved everyone very much and laid back down, his head upon the soft pillow and stopped breathing.