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A DAD’S STORY

April 21, 2006 on 2:08 pm | In Surfers Voice |

A DAD’S STORY

On July 22nd I was in route to Washington, DC for a business trip. It
was all so very ordinary, until we landed in
Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the
overhead bin, an announcement was made for Mr.
Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative
immediately. I thought nothing of it until I
reached the door to leave the plane and I heard a gentleman asking
every male if he were Mr. Glenn. At this point
I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk.

When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and
said, “Mr.
Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the
emergency is, or who is involved, but I will
take you to the phone so you can call the hospital.” My heart was now
pounding, but the will to be calm took
over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone
where I called the number he gave me for the
Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma center where I
learned that my three-year-old son had been
trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes, and
that when my wife had found him he was dead.
CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the
paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was
transported to the hospital.

By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would
live, but they did not know how much damage
had been done to his brain, nor to his heart. They explained that the
door had completely closed on his little
sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After
speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded
worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her calmness.

The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the
hospital six hours after the garage door
had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing
could have prepared me to see my little son
laying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere.
He was on a respirator. I glanced at my
wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed
like a terrible dream. I was filled-in with
the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live,
and the preliminary tests indicated that his
heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time would
tell if his brain received any damage.

Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt
that Brian would eventually be all right. I
hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the
next day Brian remained unconscious. It
seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day
before.

Finally at two o’clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness
and sat up uttering the most beautiful words
I have ever heard spoken. He said, “Daddy hold me” and he reached for
me with his little arms.

[TEAR BREAK…smile]

By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or
physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous
survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine, we took
Brian home, we felt a unique reverence for
the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who brush
death so closely.

In the days that followed there was a special spirit about our home.
Our two older children were much closer to
their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other,
and all of us were very close as a whole
family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be
more focused, and balance much easier to gain
and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly
profound.

The story is not over (smile)!

Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his
afternoon nap and said, “Sit down Mommy.. I
have something to tell you.” At this time in his life, Brian usually
spoke in small phrases, so to say a large
sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed, and he
began his sacred and remarkable story.

“Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was
so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to
you, but you couldn’t hear me.. I started to cry, but then it hurt too
bad. And then the ‘birdies’ came.”

“The birdies?” my wife asked puzzled.

“Yes,” he replied. “The birdies made a whooshing sound and flew into
the garage. They took care of me.”

“They did?”

“Yes,” he said. “One of the birdies came and got you. She came to tell
you “I got stuck under the door.” A sweet
reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet
lighter than air. My wife realized that a
three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was
referring to the beings who came to him from beyond
as “birdies” because they were up in the air like birds that fly..
“What did the birdies look like?” she asked.

Brian answered, “They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white,
all white. Some of them had green and white.
But some of them had on just white.”

“Did they say anything?”

“Yes,” he answered. “They told me the baby would be all right.”

“The baby?” my wife asked confused.

Brian answered. “The baby laying on the garage floor.” He went on,
“You came out and opened the garage door and
ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave.”

My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone
and knelt beside Brian’s body and seeing his
crushed chest whispered, “Don’t leave us Brian, please stay if you
can.” As she listened to Brian telling her the
words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left His body
and was looking down from above on this
little lifeless form.. “Then what happened?” she asked.

“We went on a trip,” he said, “far, far away.” He grew agitated trying
to say the things he didn’t seem to have
the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him know
it would be okay. He struggled with wanting
to tell something that obviously was very important to him, but
finding the words was difficult.

“We flew so fast up in the air. They’re so pretty Mommy,” he added.

“And there are lots and lots of birdies.” My wife was stunned. Into
her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped
her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known.
Brian went on to tell her that the “birdies” had
told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the
“birdies.” He said they brought him back to the
house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man
was bringing the baby out on a white bed and
he tried to tell the man that the baby would be okay. The story went
on for an hour.

He taught us that “birdies” were always with us, but we don’t see them
because we look with our eyes and we don’t
hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there,
you can only see them in here (he put his
hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is
right because they love us so much. Brian
continued, stating, “I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan.. Daddy has
a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all
live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help us to do that
cause they love us so much.”

In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part
of it, again and again. Always the story
remained the same. The details were never changed or out of order. A
few times he added further bits of
information and clarified the message he had already delivered. It
never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such
detail and speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies.

Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the “birdies.”
Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when
he did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their face and
smiled. Needless to say, we have not been
the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be.

You have just been sent an Angel to watch over you. Some people come
into our lives and quickly go…Some people
become friends and stay a while…leaving beautiful footprints on our
hearts … and we are never quite the same
because we have made a good friend!!

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why
it’s called the present! Live and savor
every moment…this is not a dress rehearsal! THIS IS A SPECIAL
GUARDIAN ANGEL…

YOU MUST PASS THIS ON TO 5 PEOPLE WITHIN THE HOUR OF RECEIVING
HER…IF YOU HAVE PASSED HER ON, SHE’LL WATCH OVER
YOU FOREVER…IF NOT, HER TEARS WILL FLOW…

Now don’t delete this message, because it comes from a very special
Angel.