posted on Oct, 16 2010 @ 11:49 PM
Hjello all,
I would like to share a very interesting story of the unknown with you. I don't post much here, but mostly read other posts and chime in every now
and then. If you look at my previous posts or threads you can see that I'm very interested in the unknown of what happens after this life is over.
I lost my father back in 08, and have been searching for any tidbits of what awaits us if anything after this life ever since. I've read stories of
near death experiences, visions, and out of body experiences, but until today I have never talked with anyone who had them, let alone someone I trust
and with this level of randomness.
The subject is my uncle Ricky. First of all, he's not my uncle by blood, but I have always called him uncle and he and my dad were just like
brothers. He is in his sixties now and having his own health issues, but has a great sense of humor. He was my fathers best friend growing up and
into their adulthood. After my mother and father divorced, Uncle Ricky moved in as a room mate and split the bills with dad. Later as I grew older,
uncle Ricky moved out and got his own place. They stayed in touch and have always had a close bond together.
When my dad passed away, I was unable to reach uncle Ricky. I found out later that was because he was in the hospital with pneumonia. Fast forward
to my fathers services at the funeral home. I see a man walk in the double doors down the long hall in the funeral home. I don't recognize him at
first, but notice he is struggling to walk and coughing more than usual. As he gets closer to us, I realize this is my uncle Ricky, fresh out of the
hospital and come hell or high water he was going to pay his respects to his best friend. That's the kind of man and friend he is. As he makes his
way to us and wraps his arms around me, he says in a comforting, father like voice, "That's my boy."
Now, fast forward to this week of two thousand and ten. Just yesterday I was thinking about how good of a friend my father had in uncle Ricky, and
how he had the dedication and love for his friend to pay his respects even in the worst of health. While I was thinking this, I said a prayer. This
prayer was not a bow your head, close your eyes kind of prayer, but a driving down the road thinking out loud kind of prayer. I asked God to remind
me to get in touch with uncle Ricky and see how he was doing. I thought this to myself and carried on with the rest of the day.
Next, I went grocery shopping this afternoon. As I strolled down the aisle with my buggy, I saw a face that caught my eye. It's the kind of
interaction where your brain has picked up on something familiar and you just need to have that little bit of time to process it. Sure enough, it was
my uncle Ricky. He was much thinner than I remembered, but still had the same eyes and smile. He hugged my neck and we began to catch up on how each
other had been doing. In conversation, we got on the subject of dad. I was explaining to uncle Ricky how much I missed him and the details of our
last minutes together.
As I was explaining how my dad and I were together when he passed fertilizing the vegetable garden, particularly the cucumbers, he went misty eyed;
having a sentimental or dreamy quality. He then goes on to say "I seen your daddy." With a short pause he continues, "The day your dad passed I
was in the doctors office very sick. I got to coughing so bad I passed out. While I was passed out I saw Doug. He was in a long dark tunnel, with a
checkered shirt on, headed towards a great big ole bright light. He looked at me and smiled and said well, I'll see ya later." He goes on to finish
this incredible story, "He came to tell me good-bye. The next thing I knew, the doctor was in my face with oxygen and nurses were talking to
me."
This is so significant to me because uncle Ricky explains that he didn't get the phone call that my dad had passed until later that evening when he
was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia, so at the point of his experience, he had no recent contact with my father or any idea my dad had passed.
He strictly witnessed this while he was unconscious due to hypoxia, lack of oxygen. As you all can imagine, this was very significant to me, and I'm
still digesting it all. As I was leaving the grocery store I passed by uncle Ricky again, gave him one last hug, and said "Thank you for telling me
that, it made my whole year," he simply smiled and said "it's true too." Thank you for reading and it feels good to share this with you all.