February 28, 2005
Dad's Ice Cream-Eating Angel
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Carole Newman, Barboursville, West Virginia,
December 2002,
info@ghostvillage.com
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.
