A Visit From Heaven

I riffled through old drawers in my parent's bedroom. With every little knick knack or memento, I began crying harder. How would I get through this? I had begun the process of clearing out their house after their passing to help get it ready for the "new people." But every item seemed to hold some sort of purpose or special thought, and I cried and cried finding it difficult as I tossed things into a plastic garbage bag.

When I walked from their room into the living area, Mom and Dad sat upon their couch. I could hardly breathe! My parents! Alive again! I ran over to them, observing the way they looked: younger, dark-haired, straight bodied and smiling. I embraced Dad first, kissing him all over his face, not feeling at all uncomfortable that I hadn't done that throughout his life. It felt perfectly natural and my happiness soared. I then reached over to Mom and embraced her, doing the same thing--loving up her dear face.

I realized they had been "sent" and knew they should not really be there. But Dad had a reason for the visit. You see, he needed to help me weed through their "stuff." Some of it was very valuable in his eyes, and he needed to show me which items to hold onto. Though he tossed many things away, he found what was most precious and told me not to let go of those special things.

Then he said to Mom, "We have to go."

I didn't feel sad or sorry to see them leave. I was still too elated at spending a little time with them, to feel anything but sheer happiness. I couldn't wait to share with others that I'd seen them and talked with them.

I watched my parents walk out the front door into a dark, rainy night together toward some beautiful woods on the other side of the road. I knew where they were headed.

Back inside the house I told anyone that would listen: "I just saw my parents! They came from Heaven! They looked wonderful!

When I awoke from the dream this morning, I felt surrounded by peace, joy, and brightness so strong that nothing could interfere with it! I knew that God had given me a glimpse of my mother and father, and let me show affection that had been bursting inside of me! He shared with me also, that though there are some things I do need to "get rid of" from the past, and not hold so tightly to any longer, that there still are things of value that each of my parents gave to me and my brother. Those things are what we need to hold fast to. Those things are the lessons and the love.

My Unknown Siblings: A story of a heavenly reunion

Miscarriages seem to be a taboo topic still to this day. But I want to share some stories that will perhaps be a blessing to a young mother mourning the child she never had.

When I was a little girl, among the many other issues going on, I remember a very difficult time of hushed words, whispering and tears. I saw a sadness in my mother that didn't seem like her usual depression. It wasn't until much later that I learned that Mom had miscarried two pregnancies within a short time of each other. One of them was so bad that my mother almost died.

As I grew into my teenage years and beyond, I thought many times of the two who were lost. I wondered were they boys or girls? What would they have been like? How would it have changed our family?

 It wasn't until my brother Rick came along fourteen years later that I didn't think about them so much. I had what I always wanted: a sibling! Rick was named Matthew Richard. Matthew means Gift of God. He was truly that in our lives, the miracle baby who survived the odds, a great blessing in our lives.

But as the years marched on, and our parents began aging, when times got difficult, I began thinking of my two lost siblings once again. How nice it would have been to have a larger family! Perhaps they would have shared the burdens of our parents health issues and been a strength that our family needed so desperately.

I had read a book about the little boy who died and was brought back to life. He mentioned to his mother about his near death experience and said that he had spoken with a young girl and called her by name. His mother couldn't believe it, for it was the daughter she had lost in pregnancy and the name that would have been chosen!

I see so many women who mourn their lost children, wondering what life would have been like if they'd carried them to term. But I believe those dear little angels are in Heaven and they are waiting for us just like the story of the little boy who had met his unborn sister in the presence of the Lord. They are not lost forever and we will be reunited with them someday.

I now know who my siblings were. Their names are Kevin and Roxanne. Mom had always been fond of those names, and had almost named me Roxanne, and Rick, Kevin. I'm sure they would have been the names of my brother and sister.

And there's some neat stories during the end of our parents lives. There was one point that my dad wasn't doing too well. Rick was in the hospital room with him when Dad mentioned, "your sister's there in the corner." That really stuck with me because it certainly wasn't me. But I know now, I feel it deep in my spirit that it was Roxanne, waiting for her daddy.

A similar story happened to Mom. She was in the emergency room for the last time. She was drifting in and out. At one point, she awoke and said the word, "Bible". I asked if she was seeing one, and she said, "yes". I asked if anyone was there with the Bible, and she said "no". But shortly after, she, too, looked in the corner of the room and said the word:"Baby". I believe one of my Heavenly siblings stood there, ready to embrace the mother they hadn't known here on earth.

When I was saying goodbye to my father as he lay in a coma, I whispered to him to go to his children who he'd never met. I knew they were waiting for him. I told him how blessed Rick and I were to have him all these years, and now it was time for the other two to get to know their beloved daddy.

I have no doubt that there were two amazing family reunions in Heaven when Mom and Dad passed. The rejoicing of the children they hadn't known, the laughter and happiness that we cannot even fathom. Somehow it's easier for me to let them go to that glory and not hold on so tightly to my own grief. The Bible says: Weeping may come for the night, but joy comes in the morning. Wow, what a morning it must have been!