Note: This is probably the most difficult post I have ever written. It’s hard for me to go back and reread it so please excuse any typos or grammar errors.
It was November of 1982. I was the happiest I had been in a long time. My son was the source of that happiness. He was nine months old and was the light of my life.
Then the phone rang. It was Friday night, about 10. I didn’t think much of it being late as family often called at the end of the day. I picked it up and won’t ever forget the words. “It’s me, Carlos. I can’t talk but you need to sit down.” I laughed at the sitting down part then he said it again, “Sit down Little Sister.” I did. I still had no clue but when he asked if I was sitting, I answered that I was, still clueless to what was coming. “David just killed himself. I have to go over there right now. The police and coroner are waiting for me. I have to go. I love you.”
That’s when the bottom fell out of my life.
I fell into depression for the first time in my life. I took care of the baby, kept in touch with family on the phone and I spoke to my brother’s widow on the phone every day. She would call me each day at the time my brother used to call her on his morning break from work. That was the time they got to talk about the kids and their lives without the kids being present. To get through that time,she would call me and we would spend the twenty minutes talking. It was good for me, too. We got each other through those first months.
One afternoon, as my son and I waited for his dad to get home from work, the phone rang. The phone was in my husband’s office, just on the other side of the living room where my son and I were. I ran to get the phone, leaving Tony crawling on the rug in the middle of the room. Not thirty seconds after I picked up the phone, I heard a loud bang. I dropped the phone and ran around the corner. Tony was on the floor. Hid dad had just walked in the door and was standing in the doorway, his face ashen, his mouth open. We checked the baby. He was fine. He didn’t even cry. My husband said that just as he opened the door, he saw the baby pull himself up on the coffee table, lose his balance and fall. As he fell, his forehead hit the corner of the coffee table. He said he was expecting to see blood all over. There was nothing. Not even a scratch or a red mark on him.
We couldn’t explain it. My husband summed it up. He’s not one to believe in this sort of thing so it surprised me to hear him say, “Someone was watching out for him.”
It made me smile. I knew it was David. Several times in the previous weeks, I had heard the baby cry during the middle of the night and before I even pulled myself out of bed, the music box would start playing music and he would stop crying. There was no one to turn on the music box yet it played. Twice I had gone into the baby’s bedroom to find the rocking chair next to the crib rocking by itself.
A month or so had gone by since the baby had fallen and hit his head on the coffee table. My next door neighbor volunteered to drive Tony and me to the store. We got in her car and she asked me if my guest wanted to go to the mall with us. I said we didn’t have a guest. She asked if he had already left and I said we had not had any guests in months and no male guests in about a year. She shook her head and said, “But I saw him. He was in the window in the baby’s room. I saw him last night. I couldn’t sleep so I got up and wandered around the house. When I looked over there, I saw a man walking back and forth carrying the baby against his shoulder. He walked back and forth, back and forth.” I asked her to describe the man she saw and she described my brother, David. My husband was the only man in the house and he was a full foot taller than my brother and very thin. My brother was near 200 pounds.
Indeed someone was watching over him. And it brought a smile to my heart.
Oh darling! Thankyou for sharing. xxx
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Reblogged this on Wasted Days And Wasted Nights and commented:
This is showing up as published on the 23rd because I had it saved in drafts. That means that when people go to the home page, they won’t see it as the current draft and it will get no traffic so I am reblogging it so you can see it.
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I’m sorry about your brother, but you could be right that he was still looking after you and, in particular, your son.
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I’m pretty sure of it, Trent. I’ve had enough of these experiences to know. Thank you for reading and commenting.
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I have no doubt that your brother was still present in your life. I’ve had several of these experiences as well, and they are very compelling.
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I’m pretty sure you have also figured out where this is going, considering the #1 in the title. You and Robin are my longest readers that still read my posts consistently.
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What a dreadful thing to happen. I am so sorry. I too have witnessed many strange things since my dad died and my friend is a firm believer that Daniel helps out regularly.
It must be good to know your brother is never too far away. I hope this post brings hope and comfort to others.
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It is comforting, Tric. I often talk to my brothers and ask them for help or guidance when I’m going through things. All three of them are gone now and I still need my big brothers.
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I am speechless! I’m sorry about your brother, but it seems obvious he was looking out for you and the baby. Thanks for sharing this!
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Thank you, Deb. I am sure it was him.
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How very beautiful…
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Thank you.
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What a very touching and bittersweet story! I’m so very sad about the loss of your brother. I’m sure that after all this time, there is still a hole in your heart. How very special that you feel comfort and protection from his presence.
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