Friday, June 13, 2014

The Vision

This story happened about fifteen years ago and will be incorporated into my current work in progress or nonfiction transcript because HIS story is always timeless.

At school, I mentioned that we planned on vacationing in Seattle, Washington.  I knew a few things about the area.  It rained all year, there.  There would be glacial mountains such as Mt. Rainer, nearby.  We’d be staying with grandma in the campgrounds on a military base in Tacoma.
One night, before our summer trip, I had a weird dream.  I stood in colorless mountains, which were very bright and glistening white.  It felt extremely cold so my brain kept demanding a jacket, which was nowhere in sight.  So, I ducked inside a library to read about the rainy season or year as is the case in that area.  Giggling at my jumbled thoughts encountered in that dream, I reminded myself to pack a light coat even though our vacation occurred in July.
Staring out the window from the airport to our transient home in the recreation area, I asked, “Where are the mountains?”
“You can’t see them on rainy days because they have glaciers and are as white as the foggy conditions right, now.”
“I see,” but really didn’t understand because the Smokey Mountains were green and lush as well as very visible in most weather conditions.  I kept this idea to myself while searching the skies for signs of the peaks.
After stopping at the gate to check grandpa’s credentials, the van followed a winding path through huge, majestic evergreens. My rambling thoughts- about their beautiful image blocking the hilly terrain- were interrupted by grandma, “Turn right at the library or you’ll miss our campsite, again!”  The mention of the library took me off guard so I listened to them argue about the best way to their travel trailer.
As grandpa parked his van, grandma warned, “Pull on your jackets; it’s colder than you think outside.”  She was right; for summer the fifty degree weather took us southerners by surprise.
The bigger shock was my dream being reality.  How did I know all this stuff having never stepped foot in this area in my life?  I was guided by God, He knew the white glacier mountains would be colder than expected as well as the fact that the campground sat near the Tacoma Military Base’s library.  God’s Spirit guides us until and to Heaven.

Monday, May 5, 2014


Music to My Ears

Yesterday, all day, my mind thought of my aunt because I missed going to see her before the youngest kid settled back home from her college dorm.  Auntie lives close to that child’s university.  That older relative had been chronically ill.  She is my deceased mom's sister.  I thought about her as my daughter ran back up to the campus to sell back her books.  However, due to a cold, I wouldn’t be able to go with my kid and drop in on my ailing relative.  I hate to make ill people sicker.

We were already late getting ready to go out for my other daughter's 21st birthday celebration.  My family celebrated a few weeks early because Jewel would be gone on a college expedition when she hit adulthood.  Plus- when she returned, her sister would be gone on a different university trip.  So, we decided to celebrate as a family- now- in spite of my horrible cough.

Just before the birthday girl jumped in the shower, she stood talking to her daddy and me in our great room.  Nearby, in the foyer to our house sat a wood book shelf full of angels.  Some of the statues had built in music boxes.  All of a sudden, the three of us heard something in that area.  I thought the other two kids were at the front door talking.  They were late coming back from pre-checking into a hotel (our surprise gift to the 21 year old).  However, the noise continued while no one came through the front door.  It was like a scratchy but harmonious sound.  It grew louder.

My husband asked, "What the heck is that?"
My daughter warned, "Don't tell me the sound is coming from nowhere.  That’s going to scare me!"

I boldly approached our foyer, "Oh, my!  It’s this angel statue; it’s singing.  It's playing ‘Happy Birthday.’"  I picked it up, "Did someone wind it- today?"

"Now, you are scaring me!  That music box turned itself on?"  My daughter pointed and made a face.

"Yes, this music box angel is playing out of the clear blue sky.  It is singing to you."

My husband gestured that I was frightening our kid.  "Maybe someone turned it on, today!"


"I didn't!" Jewel exclaimed.

"I didn't either but maybe your sisters did!" Daddy added.

"This angel was given to me my first birthday after my mom died; it’s from Auntie!  See, she holds my birth date in her hands and plays the melody." I explained while toying with it in my hands and examining it as if I was a detective.  Then, I twisted the statue to replay the tune.

"Now, I am scared!"  My kid added agitated.

"Why, it is only a birthday song from my aunt!"

When the two other girls got in, I asked who touched the angel this week.  No one did!

I think it was apropos that the angel turned itself on because that week my girls gave me flowering plants for our new yard for Mother's Day.  Their garden selections were inspired by flowers their deceased grandma liked.  As we planted my favorite day lily, I remembered that my mom gave me a similar one almost 17 years ago for our previous yard; I wondered what day the single bud on this new plant by the front door would open.  To my surprise, astonishingly, it was in bloom as we left for dinner.

It should NOT have amazed me because the birthday girl told me 14 years ago that her grandma promised to visit her from Heaven on her birthday- but then never came.  A flower would be left by our front door to prove it was grandma visiting her. Back then, she was a child full of wonderment.  From age 7 and for the rest of her earlier birthdays, we all noticed and discussed that a special flower never arrived at our front door for that daughter.  Since it hadn’t happened, the child became convinced that she was wrong about that promise.  Also, advancing age caused her to dispel all her childish memories and predictions.

When my eyes noticed that bloom as we exited for her 21 birthday party, I knew if I brought up that prediction the girls might shudder.  Even as I believed that the melodic message was from my deceased mom via God, my decision included not further scaring my daughters.  I didn't want to make them more apprehensive than the singing angel statue already did.  Instead, noticing the flower, I just smiled inside. I believe God allows these messages to show He cares about keeping all love connections going.  Look for the signs of His Love.

P.S. In August of 2007, I moved that angel statue so my first grandbaby wouldn’t break it.  One day, when my hand grabbed a picture of that granddaughter to show off her big blue eyes to a friend, I discovered that that angel was in a worse location! My brisk movement inadvertently tossed that statue to the floor where it decapitated and broke off its wings.  Sadly, the statue went in the trash.  However, its story remains in my memory- forever!

Monday, April 28, 2014

Heaven is For Real- Don's Family Agrees

I heard this story from the father;I mean an earthly one.

I  believe God allows these encounters and visions to bring peace to the grieving souls.
Grandma’s Visit as told by the dad
My mother-in-law had a massive stroke; doctors told us to brace for the worst.  We didn’t bring our young twin boys or my wife’s older son to the hospital; we wanted their last vision of their grandmother to be good.  Another relative took care of our children as we sat vigil at grandma’s bedside.  She passed within hours, so we made it home before dawn curling up in bed.
In the morning, a very agitated child sat in the kitchen with the relative baby-sitter.  My wife’s older son is trainable, mentally disabled; he has a low IQ.  There Don sat arguing that his grandmother came home last night.  Before my wife could explain the death to her son, he told his version of the night before.
“Grandma came to my bed.  She asked me to help you guys feel better when the dawn comes.  She told me to take care of the twins especially Mitch!” He continued, “She explained that she’d be with us forever but no one else would see her at the house besides me.”
Amazed, after he finished his vision, we explained her death to that son.  We briefly recapped the stroke situation to his half-brothers when they walked into the kitchen.  The significance in Don’s message from grandma manifested much later.
Ten years passed; Mitch got a rare disease that caused massive weight loss.  Due to his age, we feared illegal drug use.  When his gaunt body became unavoidable, we took him to the doctor to find the root of his issues.  Sadly, Mitch was in very poor shape and none of it was his fault- after all.  We brought him to the best doctors.
Don’s story the night grandma crossed over made sense all those years later.  We needed to especially watch over our son Mitch.  Some days, we wonder if we waited too long to seek medical intervention but the physicians on his case remind us of how rare his condition was.  Luckily, my wife and I never harmed that son with our thoughts about his possible street drug use because we’d have felt guiltier.
I feel that God warned us ahead of time so that the harshness of the blow was lessened in our soul, and we can cope.
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Saturday, April 19, 2014

Rise and Shine

Happy Easter 2014

Heaven Opens to the Left

My lawn man explained his father’s passing this way.  “All of dad’s children, grandchildren, and his wife gathered bedside.  We sat vigil as he struggled while fighting passing over.  The room felt highly agitated so my one year old daughter reacted by being extremely active.  She wasn’t whiney just nervous busy.”
“Suddenly, for no apparent reason, my little girl stopped touching everything in sight looking at her grandfather.  Both of their faces seemed to glow in unison as he opened his eyes calmly locking his stare to hers.” He continued his monolog, “The baby glowed as if she was a Cherub as my father slowly reached high.”
His story provided more details; “We thought dad wanted to hold his grandchild one last time but his arms were high and to the left.  She remained to his right shining with a huge smile.  He passed right after a sunny feeling entered the room; the atmosphere and my baby remained radiant for a bit after my father was pronounced dead.  Then, the area went back to normal, and we felt grief stricken.”
I entered his monolog, “The Hospice nurses that cared for my mother before her death said they think Heaven opens to the left because many souls praise their Creator with hands held high into the air and that direction.”
Amazed while analyzing quickly, the man responded, “That notion makes sense because ‘no one can come to the Father except through me (Jesus).’  If the thrones of Heaven face you as you die, the Lord sits to the right of God the Father. Heaven opens to the left as the passing soul faces those thrones. Thus, the person would reach high and towards the Son because God’s mercy comes from that man’s victory over death; our chance at eternal life comes from His direction!”
In unison, we agreed, “Heaven opens to the left.”
And- eventually- it unlocks to all those left behind if we follow his direction (Biblical teachings) as well as direction.  (John 14:16)

Saturday, March 29, 2014

End of Benchmark 1

As of the end of March 2014, there will be no more installments of this blog.  If you want to know where this vision is headed and where it ends, e-mail me for details at

Continuing... The Vision

Eventually, my day at the doctor’s office arrived. My two siblings weren’t in the mood to get ready to go to our cousins’ house, again.  They goofed around all morning instead of preparing to leave.  Then, Penny strolled slowly out of the car, and Owen mimicked her.  As she stood on the stoop of our relatives’ home, my sister bellowed, “Don’t leave me, mom!  Let daddy take her to the doctor, please!”  After a brief battle and plenty of hugs, my parents left with me in tow.  Such a monumental event, such as the blind being able to see, required both parents to witness the occasion.

From the doctor’s parking lot to his front door, my mother guided my steps, “Okay, step up on the curb!”

“Pretty sandals,” My eyes noticed while searching around my deteriorating bandages.


“If you were previously blind, how did you know she wore shoes much less sandals?” My park pal interjected.

“In the past, I recognized and learned objects the hard way by placing one hand over one eye and pressing hard to block the sight from that location.  Then, I’d blink until my focus almost cleared.  Larger shapes and items were readily noticeable but their details remained hidden from my view.”

My explanation made sense so my companion allowed me to finish my thoughts.


Today, the thing on my mother’s feet stood out as vividly as bigger stuff from my past experiences seeing this world.  In other words, my sight wasn’t perfect- operation or not- but I could see something.

“She noticed your shoes!”  My father stated after my claim about my eyes’ ability.

“It was just a good guess.  I always wear sandals; it’s Florida!”

“Maybe, she can see better than you’re giving her credit for!” He warned.

“She has bandages in the way!”  My mother retorted.

“The sandals are new.  They’re pink like the flowers in your dress,” I spoke out, again.

Suddenly, my self-assured mom’s hand trembled; my body felt it.  “She can see!”  There was a silence as my parents must have exchanged all-knowing looks.  “Wonder how?”

“I look out these cracks!”  My exclamation gloated as my head titled upwards.

We went in to see the doctor within minutes of arriving because my siblings made us late.  A familiar voice spoke, “Okay, Dear!  Let’s cut those bandages off to see if we can see!”

“I can see! Can’t you?”  My naivety showed.

“Of course!” He was busy cutting then added, “You can see light, now?”

“Shadows, too!  If I tilt my head like this, my eyes can see better!”

“Honey, stay still until I finish with the scissors!” The doctor gently warned.

“She claimed vision a week ago!”  My dad interjected almost scoffing.

“More than likely there’s truth in what she says.  I used dissolving stitches; they’re a new product on the market.  Obviously, they did their job while disintegrating.  I hoped they’d disappear by now; it makes my job easier.”  Then, he commanded his nurse, “Turn down the lights.  We don’t want to blind her!”

“Blind!” My voice screeched.

“I doubt it!” The doctor held my hand calmly then removed the final pads from each eye.  “I want to take the light up slowly so your eyes can adjust.  Close your eyes for me, honey!” They played along.  Then, he added, “Now, open your eyes slowly, and tell me how many fingers I have up.”

There was a soft light behind his shoulders, and it helped me count.  It helped that I knew my numbers from one to ten already, “Two!”

“And, now!” His light in his hand converged on my face.

“Ugh!  That light!”  My mouth exclaimed while blinking uncontrolled as my eyes poured water like a sudden rain storm.

“Uh, huh!” He finished a task undaunted. “And, now?”

“A light beam in my eyes.  How should I know?”

“And now?”

“Still two!”

“And, now!”  He waved all five to the nurse to bring the light in the office to normal.

“Still two! No, five!”


“How did you know how to count numbers?” Diane felt the urge for more clarification.

“Mom taught me with my own hands and fully operational ears!  Due to my quick responses, I pulled from all my knowledge to answer the doctor!”  My voice boomed as I rejoined my previous tale.


My surgeon warned, “It may be blurred as the lights come up!”

“I see you!”

“How well?”

This doctor sat so close that he practically breathed down my neck.  Since I wore glasses from time to time before they realized they’d never work without surgery, my mind immediately knew what my eyes saw, “You’re wearing glasses on the very end of your nose.” I tried to show him how well and clear my eyes saw.  Looking around, my tone gloated, “See! I told you your dress had flowers, and your shoes match!”

“She’s pretty much cured! Almost normal vision!”  He declared to my awestruck parents.  “For a few weeks, Hope should be gradually introduced to the sunshine.  Start with sunglasses outside and normal glasses indoors.  She will adjust, slowly.”

“If she goes outside without sunglasses, what can happen?”  My nervous dad asked.  “I mean after all your work, will she go blind?”

After a short chuckle, “I think her normal reaction would be to squint to protect her sight.  However, don’t put too much pressure on her eyes these first few weeks.  The sunglasses are so she can adjust slower.  I doubt she’ll go blind, again.”


“Great news,” My friend’s voice applauded this outcome.

“The bad news followed within weeks; the operation didn’t fully fix my ability to see.”


Before Diane asked for a good explanation, rattling off events from the day of my new vision continued.  Singularly, each eye produced twenty-twenty vision but during teamwork another thing occurred.  Sometimes, my eyesight doubled the items while skewing like images apart.  Other times, details between my nose or in my peripheral area disappeared completely from my view; my eyes wore invisible blinders.  My ability to see suffered just not as much as in the past.  Winking one eye helped me focus, which allowed sharp true images to come into my view.

Quickly, I understood what was missing before my operation.  However, I’d wear glasses fulltime to keep from over taxing my muscles and reversing the procedure.  Plus, prisms and adjustments in the lenses would keep the eyes straighter so they could adjust to working as a team instead of separately. This teamwork didn’t occur overnight; it took years to master along with plenty of winking and blinking to push two objects back to one.  Other coping mechanisms became keen in my repertoire as well.


“So, it wasn’t a perfect vision at first!” Diane surmised.

“Far from it!”  Laughter escaped my lips, “But, believe it or not, my eyes were mending and would produce better and better vision over time!”  I thought about my past coming up with a final speculation concerning what this portion of my young life taught me.

“You grabbed hold of the good news during rough situations?” My pseudo soul mate stated the obvious.

“Yes, I latched on to hope!”

“Such as?”

Bringing my past to my present, my declaration arrived, “The good news about being temporarily legally blind included developing my other senses.  My mind instinctively analyzed situations beyond superficial details.”


Mumbling to myself without provocation from my partner, my logic added, “Plus, empathy especially for anyone handicapped or in a minority of one evolved for me as well.  It could have been worse if I had been born before this era. My eyes might never have had their vision.  My soul felt blessed.”  With that thought spoken aloud, we left the bench that day.  My final thoughts on the subject remained in mind even if unspoken.

Since the year of my eye surgery, I lived with hope.  Even if it sometimes hid behind despair or discouragement; my soul always found it- again.

As of the end of March 2014, there will be no more installments of this blog.  If you want to know where this vision is headed and where it ends, e-mail me for details at