|My sketch of Heidi, our granddaughter who passed away last year|
However just the fear of having freedoms taken away is a strange concept for some of us in the United States to even begin to comprehend.
This post is about seeing angels. If you don't believe in angels, that is ok. Over the last two years though I've had a substantial number of encounters with angels. Some of these spirits were good and some were not good, at least from my perspective. And I bet most would agree that perspective is reality.
Enough other people have shared similar experiences with me. If I am crazy then there are others crazy too. If I am not crazy as I believe and have actually had real encounters with angels then I am confident that there are quite a few others who have interacted with these and other spirits too.
First of all as I've strongly suggested before, words are too inadequate to describe true reality. Words are a starting point. But trying to label those self-aware beings I've come to not be surprised at their presence anymore, is difficult to accurately do limited to dictionary nouns and adjectives.
Cherub, archangel, guardian, seraph, sprite, celestial, supernatural, holy and a myriad of other words exist to pick from in describing those others ('I know a phrase like 'those others' sounds a lot like the television show, LOST but I can not think of a better term tonight).
I first became acquainted with the 'those others' during my first open heart surgery. As my heart and body were separated during bypass I woke up floating just below the operating room ceiling. Before I'd only seen the operating room in a highly medicated state as I was being wheeled in on the gurney.
Now though, I could see every detail of me on the table with a team of doctors and nurses working on my body, talking, moving and doing whatever doctors and nurses do during a major surgery. My heart was clearly visible inside my open chest. I remember asking myself if I was dreaming. I was lucid and everything was incredulously clear.
Off in the distance I could see throngs of people I knew and others did not know. They were all sending me good thoughts and praying fervently. I did not have any feelings of fear but rather a sensation of curiosity. I knew my wife Judy was in the waiting room and I knew she was going to be OK no matter what. There was no sense of panic or helplessness. In fact I felt very much at peace, relaxed and filled or covered with a bright feeling of love.
Looking up I could see through the ceiling. Beyond the roof lay another world, one filled with what I can only describe as an immense, thick essence of love. Everything was real, very real. There were many beings, all very, very happy to see me, all just as real as the doctors and nurses in the room below.
But then the bumping started. I tried to move towards 'those others' but for some reason was stuck below the ceiling. Every time I would literally float up I'd bump into the ceiling and bounce back down into the air above the operating table. At first I was frustrated at being able to see and hear the others but not being able to join them.
A calm voice informed me I was not going to leave my body permanently yet, that it was not my time to die that night. 'OK' I thought, 'this is really amazing'. Before the dissection I had always worried about dying and what happened afterwards. But the actual experience was not one of dread, not one of missing my wife and children, not one of regret of having to leave, but instead was one of excitement and anticipation. And I had other beings to be there with me through it all.
Bright lights, unbelievable landscapes, colors, senses I've never experienced or imagined before and a warm, all encompassing love clothed and lay before me even as I bounced back down from the operating room ceiling.
I am a scientist trained in formal, demonstrable proof and have always questioned near-death accounts like mine, that is until it happened to me. I also flatly reject any suggestion that experience was imagined and I really don't care if the reader believes it or not. This is my experience, one no one can take from me.
After my surgeon woke me hours later and as I began a very long recovery path, the out of body event stayed in my memory with startling detail, and continues to do so even today.
Subsequently there had to be a second open heart operation to clear a thick mass of fungal growth around my heart from complications arising out of the first surgery. Months later I was finally home.
Death then lie in waiting close by. I cried the first time Judy and I went for a very short walk under a five hundred year old live oak in Bulow Plantation State Park, thinking I'd not live to see my teens grow into adults. But that night, lying in bed and looking out the window across the swimming pool into the saw palmetto flatwoods I saw the first of 'those others'.
It really looked like Gandalf, only about fifteen feet (five meters) tall and bright white, and it knew I was looking at it. I feel bad for calling it an it, but I am at lost with available words to use in discussing this topic. Anyway the Gandalf other knows how much I appreciate being looked after and over for many days and nights, giving me security, guarding me from what what I should be guarded from, bringing me peace, allowing me to close my eyes without fear. I would tell Judy and a some close friends about these angels or those others.
Some nights two or three would appear on the lanai just outside the bedroom window. On a rare occasion they would come into the bedroom. I knew why they were there - to protect and look after me - even though these never spoke out loud. These 'those others' wore long silk-like robes.
Those others, those angels who came, walked a long, dark and lonely path of recovery with me, watching over me, there to make sure my wife, Judy, children and I were OK at all times.
They still come to visit after two years though not as often anymore. I called these angels the 'guardians'. They were there to protect me and from what I was soon to find out.
As my body strengthened bit by bit each day I began to walk. Walking helped move the lymph and blood up out of my ankles and back through my organs for cleansing and processing. The first day on my feet I walked five steps with help. Each subsequent day I'd add another step or two. After a couple months I could walk to the mailbox and back.
Today I walk and ride my bike, but with a heart output function of twenty to twenty five percent I tire very quickly. Yet I believe walking keeps me alive so I walk and walk and walk some more.
One place I like to walk is along the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway here in Palm Coast. There is a nice wide paved walkway on the banks of the waterway, several nice parks, restroom facilities and a Children's Memorial Garden where I've hung a set of windchimes for little Heidi, our granddaughter who passed away last year.
Those others followed me faithfully on my walks. Sometimes they would walk out of the bushes along the path, smile, nod and then disappear. It never fails that when an angel appears I do a double take. The being is always there the second time I look, but never stays long.
Some of 'those others' even have a sense of humor. I've had one drop out of the sky riding a bicycle and land on the paved path next to me, laugh, tell me, and I quote, 'just checking on you' then take off and ride off down the path, laughing even louder as they rode away.
One day I literally jumped, dropping my crutch-cane when a very dark, greyish spirit came charging out of the bushes towards me. But almost as instantly, just behind the charging thing I'd call a 'demon', came one of the guardian spirits. The protector grabbed the greyish demon and threw it violently down into the earth, turned and was gone. Shaken I picked up my cane and returned to the park area.
Several people walking close by stopped out of curiosity to stare at me when I jumped as the grey spirit charged.
I believe this grey spirit was something bad, something that wanted to harm me. However the guardian angel stopped it.
Yes, even after two years they still let me know they are there. Last week there was one in an animal form, brilliant white, persistent even with the double and triple head turns and eye rubs.
Some are very lovely, with long flowing hair. Others are the epitome of strength and security. Some are small, some large. They all come to me when I am awake.
Yes, I have had what my neurologist calls "embolistic events" or small strokes as a result of the dissection, surgery and recovery. I drool, stutter and have extensive short term memory loss. I take beta blockers, clot prevention medications, aspirin, statins and ARBs for blood pressure. My dreams are quite vivid every night.
But 'those others' come to me in the day, when I am awake and well aware of what is actually happening around me.
There is no doubt in my mind what I experienced the night of my dissection and the intense out of body excursion was real. I saw other beings, angels for lack of a better descriptive term and my self-awareness existed outside my earthly body.
These others had a job. They watched over me and still do. I see them, hear them and know they are around me.
Some may try and take what I saw and continue to see and pass it off as my mind playing seemingly real but actually illusory tricks. I feel like I don't have to defend what I see and hear to anyone.
To me these angels are real. I believe that once one walks that fine line between life and death daily as I and others do we are privileged to witness part of eternity here and now.
Before my dissection I'd smile and shake my head to hear this.
Reality is primarily perspective.
I know angels are real. I now know there is so much we here on earth are really clueless about. They say seeing is believing.
I've seen and I believe.