Witness: Carole Newman
Location: Barboursville, West Virginia
Date of Encounter: December 2002
My very special father got sick around Christmas, 2002. The doctors told us that it was probably lung cancer, which originated from his colon, which he had partially removed a few years before. He was 82 years old, but even with all of the cancer treatments he was not the least bit confused or fuzzy-brained.
As he grew sicker, one day he looked at me and said, "Look at the little boy at the end of the bed eating an ice cream cone." I looked and there was nothing there (that I could see). He said, "Why can't you see him? He is sitting there smiling and having a great time." I thought at the time that daddy may be losing it.
Two days later, he looked at me again and said, "Now the little boy wants me to play ball with him. Don't you see him on the end of my bed?" Once again, I told him I was sorry, but I didn't. The little boy obviously cheered my dad up because it put a big smile on his thin, worn face.
That next morning, the nurse called me and told me that my sweet dad had passed away quietly in his sleep that night. I am telling this story because I believe with all my heart that the little boy at the end of the bed was an angel that came to take my dad to heaven. My mom had a miscarriage before I was born, and it was a boy. It could have even been my brother.
What I am trying to say is that now, more than ever, I believe that there is life after death, and before you die, an angel is sent to carry you to heaven. I love and miss my dad more than I can say, but, because of the little "angel " I know that my dad is in a wonderful place where you eat ice cream cones and play ball together.