Angelic Pathways by Chantel Lysette

Author:Chantel Lysette [Lysette, Chantel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Spirituality, intuition, angel, archangel, angelic communication, angels, spirt guides
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2013-06-19T14:00:00+00:00

The emergency room of the city hospital was packed with patients and security alike; getting in to see my father was harder than getting on an airplane as we passed through security checks along the way. When the nurse escorted Mom and me to a family room, my heart froze and I watched my mother slowly crumble as we waited for someone to come talk to us.

The doctors entered the room. The visit was too brief for my liking, but what more could they say? My father had suffered a blood clot to the heart, or so they thought. He was eighty-five, why bother with details? I imagined them thinking as they departed. After a long cry with Mom and our last visit to my dad in the ER, there was only one detail that really stuck with me the rest of the day: the doctors pronounced my father’s passing at exactly eight thirty.

Unlike in my dream, however, it wasn’t spring. We were in the middle of a brutal, wintry November. The chill seemed degrees colder than normal, and the winds were perpetually antagonistic. Dad died right in the middle of it all, Heaven bless him, and there was no other time that I listened to him more than right then. Once on the day he died and then twice or so at the funeral, I heard his voice.

“Don’t bother coming to the grave, Chantel. I’m not there. You hear me? I won’t be there.”

The inclination to disagree with him never came. For a while I thought my aversion to cold weather had made my cooperation easier, but even as spring arrived, I never went. During the passing seasons, my thoughts were more on the dream of my father than the death of him. Suddenly the dream became more than a flash of memories past. It was my father’s final goodbye and I will forever cherish the moment.

Yet, as I sit here sixteen years later thinking back on that dream, I can’t help but go back to that moment when my father was so angry and belligerent at the man in the white car. Though I was afraid to admit it to myself for years, I always thought the man looked very much like Jesus. And the thought made me cringe and whisper to the heavens, “Dad, what were you thinking?”

But my father’s mind had been ravaged by Alzheimer’s. I’d like to think that during his twilight hour, he was just as confused as he was frightened. To this day, I’m unsure how his moment of transition truly went, being that I haven’t had any real, substantial contact with him since. The same went for my mother, too, until one day when I went looking for her on the other side.

That Sunday in the spring of 2004 was a quiet one at the tea shop. I sat reading a book as friends of the store stopped by to pay respects to my ailing Reiki Master, Ella, and her closest friend, Britt.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.