An Angel on My Shoulder. Theresa Cheung

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the piano were not moving, but still I could hear the music. I walked towards the piano and suddenly the music stopped ringing in my ears. In its place I heard the telephone ringing again. I was standing right by it. Hardly knowing what I was doing I was in such a daze, I picked it up.

      ‘Hello,’ said a male voice on the other end of the phone.

      I didn’t reply. I was still in shock about the piano music.

      ‘This is hard for me and I know it will be hard for you but I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days now,’ said the gentle but strong voice. ‘Please don’t be shocked or frightened, as I promise not to disturb you if this isn’t what you want, but I’d really like to meet you. You see, I’m your twin brother, Jack.’

      ‘Brother,’ I mumbled. ‘I have a brother? My son was called Jack.’

      ‘Yes, I only heard a few weeks ago about your terrible loss. I don’t want to intrude, as this is a vulnerable time for you, but I’d like to be there for you or help if I can.’

      The following week I did meet up with my brother Jack. It was an emotional reunion for us both. I’d had no idea I had any siblings, let alone that I was a twin. I also found out that my brother had two children of his own. I’m an auntie. Nothing will ever replace my Jack, but I have a family again.

      Apart from the amazing coincidence that both my son and my brother were called Jack, I am convinced that I was guided to the phone that night by Jack’s spirit. He clearly wanted me to pick up the phone and speak to my brother. And although there were no bright lights and no spirit to be seen, hearing Jack play the piano again filled my heart with unimaginable joy because I knew that my amazing son had not gone far away at all.

      Denial and depression are perfectly natural defence mechanisms following the death of a loved one. Everyone works through the stages of grief in their own special way, but in most cases denial is replaced by anger, followed by despair and then eventually acceptance. In Lisa’s case, however, the experience of grief and loss led her on a dangerously self-destructive path.

      ‘How Will I Ever Cope?’

      My mother and I were wonderfully close. I could talk to her about anything. She was my rock. When she died suddenly of a heart attack I felt like a ship without an anchor. I was 30 at the time, but emotionally I was about 15. As I watched her coffin being lowered into the ground at her funeral all I could think was, ‘How will I ever cope without you?’

      Not knowing where to turn for support, I drowned my grief by investing all my energy and need for comfort and love into men. I had a series of boyfriends, each more useless than the last, but however badly they treated me I kept running back for more. I was terrified of being alone. It was too painful without being able to call Mum.

      When I first met Dan he was charming. I thought I loved him and I devoted myself to him. But after a few weeks he stopped being charming and started being violent. If I’d had enough self-esteem I would have left instantly, but I didn’t. The odd slap and shove soon turned to the odd kick and thump and then one night he got really savage. I don’t remember much after that but when I woke up I was lying on the kitchen floor and I couldn’t see anything because blood was covering my eyes. Every part of my body ached, but the place I hurt the most was in my heart. I started to cry and the tears cleared my vision. I put my thumb in my mouth and began to gently rock myself.

      At that instant the atmosphere in my kitchen seemed to change and I felt my mum’s presence. I didn’t see her or hear her, but I knew she was beside me. I was filled with a sensation of love. I felt strong arms gently encircling me and holding me tight. There was no one in the room with me at the time and in my mind I know it was my mum. She was telling me that I was not and never would be alone.

      All this happened five years ago, but I can still close my eyes and remember the feeling of being held gently in my mum’s arms. Her love that day gave me the incentive I needed to leave Dan and report him to the police. Her love gave me the courage I needed to stay away from destructive relationships. Today my life is full, even though I am not in a relationship. I feel strong and optimistic. I’m not afraid of being by myself anymore because I’m confident in the knowledge that my mum is always with me and I’m never alone.

      Lisa’s story is similar to many others I have collected over the years in which the spirit of a lost loved one returns briefly to offer strength in times of crisis. The return typically only lasts a split-second, but it is long enough to bring comfort and hope for the future. These stories are a source of great comfort because they show that even though we may not always see them, angels are with us during times of need.

      After being told that her five-year-old son, Thomas, had slipped into a coma, Sheila felt a magical, loving presence which gave her the courage and the strength she had previously lacked.

      Quietly Slipping Away

      I was inconsolable when my five-year-old son Thomas went into a coma. The doctors told me the meningitis had taken a firm hold. His chances of survival depended on how strong his little body’s immune system was, but the prognosis was not good. There was little chance of him ever waking up again and I was told that he was quietly slipping away.

      How could I ever get past this and go on? I didn’t know if I had the strength. I sat by my son’s bed. It was getting dark outside and inside. I felt numb. I sat there and waited.

      At around 9 p.m. Thomas started to twitch. Then he opened his eyes and started to say in a weak voice, ‘Mummy, I want to stay with you. I’m frightened. The angels want me to come with them.’

      I lay down beside Thomas in his bed and held and kissed him. I’m not religious, but I begged the angels to let me keep my son. I pleaded and I sobbed, but deep down I knew that this was a battle I didn’t have any say in.

      I looked at Thomas again. His eyes were closed again but he was smiling. I knew this was it and I couldn’t accept it. I picked Thomas up and held him to me, ignoring all the tubes and equipment. As I held him, his little life flashed through my head in pictures. I saw him kicking his first football, stamping his foot when I wouldn’t give him seconds, laughing when I blew on his stomach. Then I saw in my head all the things I wanted to see him doing when he got older. I saw him riding a bike, playing in the school football team, running with a kite. I longed with all my heart to see him grow up, but there was nothing I could do. I was helpless. So I did the only thing I could – I held him tight.

      After several minutes holding my son’s limp body in my hands I felt as if someone was standing right behind me. I felt a wonderful sense of peace and strength and I knew in that instant that I would have the strength to cope. A sense of calm came over me. I immediately stopped crying and I pictured my son happy and healthy again with the angels in heaven.

      I turned around, expecting to see my mum or a doctor there trying to console me, but there was no one there. I believe that it was my guardian angel standing behind me giving me a wonderful sense of peace and hope.

      Thomas remained unconscious for the rest of the night but the following morning he shocked everyone, especially me, as I was convinced he had quietly slipped away in the night, when he opened his eyes. The infection that had raged through his body was gone. He looked into my eyes and said, ‘I love you, Mummy,’ and then he looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘I love you too, angel.’

      I stroked my son’s hands and face. The happiness and gratitude in my heart felt too much to bear. The angels had listened to the heartfelt longings of an СКАЧАТЬ