Quote from Forum Archives on July 12, 2005, 2:49 pm

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

"A Dad's Story"

 

 

This is long but worth reading!!! 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...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 arge 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 asoftened 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.

 

"ALONE I AM NOTHING"

 

 

Dear God, forgive me for being critical of others

Who do things that I cannot do.

I know that they must answer to you, Dear Lord,

Let me remember it’s not me but you.

Don’t let me be jealous and get out of sorts,

Just help me be faithful and true.

And if there’s a way you want me to witness to them,

Then lead me that thing to do.

Perhaps what they’re doing doesn’t bother you at all,

The problem may not be with them but with me.

I’m glad you didn’t appoint me to be the world’s judge,

And so thankful that your grace sets me free.

If you see me straying away from your fold,

Or getting close to or crossing the line,

Bring me up short and correct me I pray-

No excuses because the wandering is mine.

I love you, I trust you, I praise and I thank you

For temporal and eternal life,

And that you are my leader and friend,

And that you’ve saved me from sin and its strife.

Alone I am nothing but with you by my side

I have a glorious future secure.

You’ve forgiven me and cleansed me and you’re leading me home

To Heaven so peaceful and pure.

 

 

"Friends are God's way of taking care of us."

 

 

Have a Blessed Day
Dave and Barbara

 

 

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