A Blue Blanket in a White Room

My  hairdresser  Shelly told me she was struggling because her father had just died. I didn't know him  and hadn't heard he'd been ill. The night before my next hair appointment I had a vivid dream. 

I saw someone I knew was Shelly's dad lying on a twin bed in an all-white room. The only thing that wasn't white was the blue blanket on the bed. I saw the softest eyes on the face of the figure on the bed and then heard his gentle voice say, "Tell Shelly I'm fine. I can breathe now. I'm resting but absolutely fine." With that, a knowing came into me that the blue blanket was a sign that Archangel Michael  was with the man on the bed. I told the story to Shelly and, after listening, she said  she felt absolutely fine.

image:deviant art archangel michael by fran gomes

 

The Fragrance of Grandma

My Grandma was on my mind . She was slowing and everything was hard. Still, dinner for Grandpa was a must . I thought it would help if I brought dinner once a week. I wanted to help and also felt a call to spend time with her.  The thought of visiting was followed by a soft, angelic voice saying, "There is no time ."

Not long after, Grandma was in an ambulance to the hospital for emergency surgery. Her intestines had perforated and an entire day went by  before she asked for help. Toxins had flooded her body and taken her to life's boundary.  I went  to her side and before surgery said, "Don't go anywhere. I need you." She whispered, "I won't. I need you too. I love you." Despite the emergency effort, she left us.

On the way to the cemetery there was silence in the car. There wasn't silence in my head.  I kept hearing Grandma say, "I'm right here." Standing at the grave, I asked, "Are you really here?" The sudden fragrance of roses was near overwhelming. I looked in front of me  and saw only grass. I moved in a slow circle and saw only grass.  As I had in the car, I heard her voice again, "Yes, I am here. I am so happy."  Only then did I silently say her name, "Rose."

 

Peppe, You're Breathing is Perfect; You Are Healed

A week after my mother's death, as I sat in my home office, I heard a loud and clear voice inside say, "Get a puppy now!" The rightness of the thought flowed through me. A puppy would be a companion for my father and fill a bit of the hole in my brother's and my hearts. After a bit of searching, I met and adopted a 10-week-old Shepherd/Chow mix rescue  with the eyes of an angel and a pink and black polka-dot tongue. I didn't know it at the time, but his date of birth was 10/17, the exact time of day (10:17) of my mother's death. I also didn't know the puppy was about to knock on death's door.

Days after Peppe came to us, I saw he was winded and having trouble taking a full breath. A vet visit gave me a diagnosis of double pneumonia. His left lung was shut down and the right was at 20 percent of capacity.  The vet said Peppe needed immediate oxygen and antibiotics. I admitted him and felt devastated. I couldn't fathom losing him.

His doctor called every morning and we were allowed to visit for five minutes a day. Peppe was off oxygen for those five minutes. The updates weren't encouraging. The four antibiotics tried weren't working. Knowing all that, I felt a need to call for help.

Lying down, I breathed slowly till I moved into a meditative space. I called upon my and Peppe's spirit guides, my Mom, my dog Benji on the other side, the Archangel Michael, the Archangel Raphael. I called on my grandparents, my friend Tom's brother and his dog. I made one final plea to anyone on the other side willing to help.

As I felt gathered presences, I focused on Peppe. I visualized him as relaxed and comfortable, cradled in my arms and with all my spirit forces sending him love and  energy. I asked my  helpers to breathe healing into his lungs.

In my mind I saw Peppe as perfect and healed. I said to him, "Peppe, your breathing is perfect. You are healed. " Then I asked the angels and spirit forces to again breath healing into his lungs. After ten minutes, I felt a tingling sensation throughout my body. The knowing came into me that I was done and that Peppe would be okay.

The next morning, in his update, the doctor slowly said, "I'm going to let you take Peppe home. I don't know what to say except that something occurred last night. Every day, the X-rays showed no change; the evidence said the infection was resistant to everything we gave him.  Apparently, the antibiotics began working last night. The morning's X-ray tells me his lungs are at about 60 percent. I think he is well enough to go home and that  being at home with family and continuing the medication will get him completely well."

A happy and healthy Peppe was nestled at my feet as I wrote this.

Get a message to Marcy

"A miracle is never lost.  It may touch many people you have not even met, and produce undreamed of changes in situations of which you are not even aware."
- A Course in Miracles

I was beginning my evening meditation, softening my body, concentrating on my breath. In my mind I saw a girl about 20.  She had dark eyes and hair falling to chin level. She looked radiant as she announced, "Get a message to Marcy."  

Marcy is my good friend. The girl said she appreciated the opportunity and kindness Marcy had given her. She said she hadn't had a chance to let Marcy know how much the connection meant. She said Marcy had seemed to see value and beauty in her she hadn't been able to see in herself. She said that by hiring and befriending her, Marcy had shown belief in her, and that even though she hadn't been able to find her way out of her darkness, her soul carried love and gratitude for what had been given.

When I called, Marcy was at first bewildered. Her  silence was finally broken by, "Yes. That's who it is" She then reminded me how 15 years earlier she'd run a high-end children's clothing store. She'd hired Jenna as a part-time sales associate. She  had spent time training Jenna and a bond of friendship had begun. It ended when Jenna died from a drug overdose. 

This message  reminds me that loving kindness resonates  beyond time. The soul of the person to whom you give such gifts carries gratitude for eternity.