On the 19th of October, my father passed away at home. Surrounded by family and friends, my dad fought death until he could no more. His battle had been long and weary; and though we’d tried every resource under the sun to “fix him,” in the end, he lost his battle to multiple heart-related reasons – though I attribute his spiraling demise to MRSA.
It began with a quadruple bypass heart surgery in early 2002. While surgeons at a local, major (hospital) had done a super job repairing his heart, he contracted a “staph” infection during his hospital stay; which we later understood to be Methicillan Resistant Staphylococcus Aureaus – one of the worst types of hospital-acquired infections.
Sent home with this infection, my father’s health began to rapidly deteriorate. Multiple surgeries and treatments later, (including reconstructive plastic surgery where MRSA had eaten clear to the breastplate); my dad’s blood sugar had become completely out of control, kidney function was near renal failure; and half of his heart was now comprised of dead tissue. He had suffered tremendously under the trusted hands of “conventional medicine.”
I believe it was the sheer act of Divine Intervention that my father managed to survive three more years. His will and determination to live were impeccable. Until the end, he fought death like the soldier he was. Even when family members begged him to “let go,” his dying words were, “…I don’t want to.” In fact, my dad did not want to die (as most folks share the same feelings). He loved my mom so much, that on the day he died, he ordered a dozen red roses for her. To her surprise, she asked him, “Who are these for?” At this time he could barely speak, but he pointed to her. Then she asked him, “…From who are these roses?” To which he responded by pointing to himself. His nobility was simply admirable. Chivalry was nothing new to my dad, and my mom had a special bond with him. With nearly 40 years of marriage behind them, we’d thought them both immortal.
Prior to his physical death, my family had the rare opportunity to bid our final words to him. Since most of we believe in life after death, we’d asked him to give us signs when he made it to the “other side.” Unbelievably, he didn’t just give us one sign, but many. The one that stood out the most was the following, actual account:
My aunt, (my father’s sister) was staying at his home with my mom. During that time, I had cleared ALL voicemail messages from my cell phone and left the cell phone with my aunt so she could call out-of-town family members. The following morning (10-20-05) I went to my mom’s house where my aunt met me at the door to tell me, “…you need to check your cell phone. It rang me at 3:30a.m. but I couldn’t figure out what to do with it.” When I asked her, “Why?” She replied, “…well, I opened the flip-phone to see who was calling but all I got was a text message stating that I had two NEW voicemail messages.”
Thinking that these were family members from out of town, I proceeded to dial my number and enter my pass code to retrieve the new messages. The first new message sounded garbled and liken to someone under water. The second new voice message was my father stating, “…hey, we’re home. I’ve got a sack full of groceries and we need some help.”
Now, my father had congestive heart failure and on the morning of the 19th, we helplessly watched him drown in his own fluids until his passing. Prior to his passing, my dad had not been grocery shopping for at least three weeks (one of his favorite past times). Additionally, it had been nearly eight weeks prior to his death when his voice was so crisp and clear as it was on the phone.
I’d heard of cell phone messages being delayed by a few days, but I am fairly certain that this was in fact an EVP from my dad. Technically, he stopped breathing at 3:30a.m. — His pacemaker kept his heart beating until 4:02a.m.
My dad could never remember my cell phone number, but for some peculiar reason, on the following day of his passing, he managed to send me two new voice mail messages. The other bizarre part of these communications were that both voice mail messages were deemed “new” from Verizon, but coincidentally did not list a time or date.
Before he died, he had had multiple visions and communications with God, and the night prior to his physical death, he asked us, “…do you see them coming?” There was no one that we could see, but he did. My assumption is that he saw the Angels coming for him. I also recall him having his eyes closed and having the ability to see my daughter perched on the floor. With lids shut, he pointed his finger at her, and said, “Rita Marie?” He’d even visited my daughter in a dream where he relayed, “I’ve made it here. Don’t worry about me.” Later, we’d developed pictures of my dad that had been taken days prior to his passing. On the photos, we could see a light-blue aura around him. He was already crossing over to the other side, but at the time, no one wanted to accept it – including him.
Though my dad is very loved and missed, he had given us all signs prior to and after his physical death. Skeptics may say these accounts were merely coincidental; prompted by human imagination, even the Verizon phone call – I say that life after death does exist. Most physicists agree that energy cannot be destroyed – it simply transforms.
In closure, I find that listening to “Solsbury Hill” by Peter Gabriel, gives me a sense of resolve and hope. An unlikely source of spirituality, his closing lyrics read:
“…Who close their eyes, but still can see”
No one taught them etiquette
I will show another me
Today I don’t need a replacement
I’ll tell them what the smile on my face meant
My heart was going boom boom boom
Hey, I said, you can keep my things, they’ve come to take me home…
My dad crossed over with a smile on his face. As I reflect, I know that though his struggle was bitter until the end, he has found peace and eternal life in another realm of spiritual energy. Like the man he was in life, he managed to give us all hope, even in his physical death. Thus, if you’ve lost someone near and dear to you, know that pure energy never dies.
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Proof of Spiritual Afterlife: Messages from Beyond
By CarolAnn Bailey-Lloyd