A dear friend of mine died of AIDS complications in the early nineties. I'd just visited him in New York. Soon after that he'd gone into the hospital for what everyone thought was something minor, "just to be careful." I was sitting in a restaurant in Harrisburg waiting for SG when suddenly I got this overwhelming feeling of sadness about Gus. I couldn't get him out of my mind; it was as if he were suddenly there with me, looking me in the face. When SG got there I was shaking and weeping. He asked me what was wrong, and I could hardly talk. Our waitress brought me water and looked worried -- she thought maybe I was having some sort of attack. When we got home, I called the hospital to check on Gus and was told to contact the family.
The next day his girlfriend notified me of his death. He had gone into a coma from which he never awakened at precisely the time I was sitting in the restaurant. I later learned that two other friends of his had had similar experiences at around the same time.
The other experience involved my father. He was dying of cancer of the esophagus, and we had arranged part-time hospice care, with a worker spending time at my parent's home. The worker told me that my coming to visit him so much was making him hang on, and therefore suffer more, and it would be better for him if I stopped coming. (People have told me since that they find this horrifying, but my gut feeling at the time was that she was right, though it was painful to hear). My mother, meanwhile, was preoccupied with the idea that he'd die in the house, and then she'd have to live there with that memory.
When I got back to Harrisburg my friend Beverly called me, all excited because a friend of hers was visiting from England. This friend, whose name was Rachel, claimed to be a medium. She'd come to do a "platform demonstration" at a New Age conference at a local hotel. I met her because she was Bev's friend, and had my reservations about her credibility -- but found her charming and warm. I told Bev about the situation with my father and the hospice worker, and Rachel said, "did you tell your father that it was all right for him to go -- that you'd be okay?" I said no, and wondered aloud if I should go down there again to do so, because it sounded like a good idea. Rachel said, "No, don't do that. Just think about your father tonight, before you go to sleep. When you're asleep I'll come and get you, and we'll go see your father."
I did as she said. I don't remember having any dreams that night. The next day I learned that my father had taken a turn for the worse during the night, and had died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, leaving my mother in a way she could at least handle. I guess when we "went to get him" I must have mentioned my mom's fears, too.
Anyway, those are my stories. I'm always curious to hear the stories of others.
(c) 2007 by Jack Veasey
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posted by Lisannie
My father loved Prism like she was another daughter and when she got pregnant he was so excited....................
He died on March 4, 1984 and I called her that morning to tell her.......she said she already knew. Apparently on his way out, he stopped to say goodbye............
I was still in college at the time (at a Lutheran University) and my religion professor died the day after my father....I had a really hard time becasue while everyone knew that Dr. Asper was going to heaven (He was a prof of Religion and a pator), by
strict christian doctrine (which neother he or I were, we're UU) my father would not....................
It bothered me alot and I was worried........
He came to see me.............not exactly a dream, but not awkae either...............we talked and I asked him if it hurt to die, he said that althoughhe was in a lot of pain before, once he died it didn't hurt at all......he also told me that he was fine and to quit worrying. He said that although he was dead, he would still love me and that everything would be fine.
I felt better..and although I miss him terribly, even to this day, I am not worried, I know he is ok.
Lisa
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posted by ponytail
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posted by country4me
My husband, Bill, died from cancer that started in the esophegus (he had it removed 2 yrs. earlier). He was home and that was what we both wanted. I was his caregiver, atho' we also had hospice. We were total sould mates. I called my daughter (they were closer than blood)his sisters, mom neice and best friend to come say their gbyes that morning. They were there all day and over the last few months he has kept saying that he hoped he wasn't the one who brought more grief to Meg (my daughter who is a nurse ina nursing home, has lost her brother, son's father and my dad who raised her and my mom who also helped raise her). Slowly everyone started leaving and finally Meg said she was giong to go get sandwiches for us. She had no more walked out thedoor than he passe. He was just waiting for her to go and not have to witness another death as she had my dad and just 3 months before Bill, my mom. My dad had started dying as soon as meg ad come to the hospital, it was as if he wanted us all with him and together.
It is an amazing thin, death. I feel blessed to have been at their side and regrehat I didn't make it in time to be with my mom, but Meg wa holding her. Meg always stays in the room with any resident who has no family present if they are dying becasue she says no one should die alone. She has done this since she was a CNA almost 14 yrs. ago. She sees and deals with deah daily. My ganddaughters were so close to Pappy Bill and were 5 & & when he died. They, along with their oler brother helped take cre of him, the youngest even learned to help give him insulin shots!The girls came to see him (at their request) before they removed his body and cried and said their byes, as they had done my mom. They say they still see him sometimes and feel his presence, as they say about my son who had passed away befor they were even born. They know things and my grandson when he as small knew things about Jason that nobody ever talked about or told them, small personal thngs. Wild!
After my son died suddenly from DVT at a Pink Floyd concert in 94 I was lying in bed and saw him step up and through into a pure, very pure,light. That is another story,
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