It was the summer of 2003, as my mom was loading things into our golf cart when Spike, our puppy, ran away. He headed to the beach close to our cottage. This beach was at the bottom of a steep cliff. When I looked down onto that beach, it made me feel nauseous. The stairs going down were shaky and looked like wood planks free standing in the air. The railing was useless and if touched, would shake just like the steps, which always made me nervous.
As I was getting Spike back up the stairs, he suddenly went to a place, where there was no fence and had a straight fall off the cliff. I yelled, “Spike no!”, but it was too late. The last thing I saw of him before he fell, was his tail wagging as he walked into the brush lining the cliff.
I went running to my mom, bawling, thinking for sure Spike was dead and it was my fault. As she ran down to the beach, we had a great surprise. Spike had landed in a tree, which cradled him like a baby, keeping him happy and safe. If he had been hurt, there were no vets anywhere until we reached Detroit, a long three hour drive. I couldn’t help but to think how lucky we were that it hadn’t been worse.
I have always heard talk from my parents of how they felt our luck was someone due to someone watching over us. It was always in casual conversions with family so I just never thought anything of it. I for sure think about it now, especially after the accident with my dad.
It was 8:30 a.m. when my dad slipped and fell 27 feet down to the ground. My mom got the call that my dad was being rushed to the emergency room while I was in workout class with my mom. While my abs were burning from my interrupted workout, I couldn’t help but think I wouldn’t have a father anymore, and if I did he wouldn’t be the same. On the ride to the emergency room, I closed my eyes and repeated over and over in my head, “Please be okay Dad, please!” because I just knew there was no way that this was a small accident.
Due to the unusually rainy summer, my dad wanted to cover up a hole by which workers accessed the roof, so water would not get the rest of the house wet. All of the workers at the site said “Oh George, you’ll slip and kill yourself up there!” My dad ignored, but the workers stayed back, even though they were told to go home.
To my benefit, what I thought I had known was wrong. After two days in the hospital, my dad walked away with no broken bones, no internal bleeding, no torn muscles, not even a sprain.
When talking to him about how he felt when he was falling, he stated, “…I couldn’t believe how fast I was falling; it felt like a fighter jet was pushing me to earth. As I started to get close to the ground all of the sudden I seemed to slow down. It was like the whistling air noise you hear in movies when sky divers are way up in the air. Was I dead and didn’t realize that I had hit or was something beyond my control stopping my ascent to the earth? Just before hitting I did feel something come over me and slow me down. I realized that later maybe an angel was with me as I walked away from what should have been a horrendous fall.”
We have had other things that have happened in our family like a large house fire, with no injuries; my dog eating rat poison, twice, and living. These are only a few additional examples of our guardian angel. I have encountered many of my own experiences in which could prove someone was watching out for me, my guardian angel. I suspect my great grandmother is such guardian angel. She watches out for us, keeps us safe, knowing, when she works her wonderful miracles, we think of her, and we don’t take it for granted.
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