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Quest For The Afterlife - part 11
An Angel Visitation
I was working as a Store Manager for a well known chain of convenience stores, hired to move between all the locations in the district to cover for vacations and help in training new staff. It was a position somewhat above a designated Store Manager, but beneath the District Manager level. At the time, I had been working at the same location for several weeks due to training needs. The location was only minutes from my home and still closer to the home town in which I had grown up. Several of the employees there were either acquaintances from my youth, or friends and relatives of those acquaintances.
I had been putting in some very long hours to cover the Store Manager's vacation when I came down with a mild infection. I wasn't alarmed and just took some over the counter medication to help me recover. As the days, then weeks, went by, my symptoms became worse until I had a constant raging fever and pain over most of my body.
Because I tend to be very single minded when I have something I wish to accomplish, I can push aside and ignore anything which might run interference with my plans. Being sick at that time didn't mesh with my plans, so I began popping Ibuprofen to bring down a fever that was often over 103 degrees. Looking back, I don't know how I continued to drive in that condition, let alone remain on my feet for upwards of twelve hours a day.
It was a Saturday afternoon when I stumbled in the doors, feeling like I couldn't take another step. Vicky, the employee behind the counter took one look at me and told me that if I didn't give her the number of someone she could call to take me to the hospital, she was going to take matters into her own hands. After some feeble and unconvincing attempts at assuring her I would be alright, I gave in. I was too sick to continue talking.
When my friend TT and I arrived at the emergency room admissions area, I was dismayed to see it overflowing with cases. I felt so bad I didn't think I would survive the wait. Apparently the Triage nurse didn't think so either and I was taken back to be seen immediately. It turned out that my mild infection had gotten so out of control that it had become systemic. My body was just one great big vat of boiling infection.
After several bags of fluid from an IV drip, a couple of huge needles full of antibiotics shot into my poor aching flesh, and an angry tirade from a physician about how close to death I had become, I began to believe I would live to see another day. When the angry physician recommended that I stay for the night, I infuriated her more by refusing. I just wanted to go home to either die or get better on my own turf.
My friend promised the doctor she would take me to her house to be watched over and cared for and finally, she signed the papers for my release. It was a good thing they knew better than me what was good for me because once the fever had dropped to a more manageable 101 degrees, I became aware of how much everything hurt. I could barely walk to the bathroom by myself, and I wouldn't have been able to get any drinks or take medications on my own. It was a very humbling experience.
After TT had turned in for the night, I lay there thinking and worrying about the burden I was placing on her. She had broken up with her long term boyfriend, was working long hours to try to replace the missing income, and had a teenage son to look after. She had enough on her plate without my troubles.
I spoke to no one in particular, choosing instead to send my thoughts out into the universe, hoping they would reach anyone who could help. I asked that “they” do something because my friend sure didn't need to be saddled with caring for me. I spent a few hours in fitful dozing and tossing and turning until I fell into a light slumber.
A bright light woke me from my sleep. I thought TT had come into the room and turned on the overhead light until I realized there was no overhead light. I shifted to a half sitting position, opening my eyes wider to try to get my bearings.
The light was so bright in its brilliance that it should have hurt my eyes but it didn't. It was so bright that it obliterated everything else in the room. I couldn't make out a single piece of furniture in the room because I couldn't see past or through the light. I tilted my head in an upwards motion, trying to see the source of this magnificent light. It seemed that I looked up and up until my eyes rested on the most beautiful face I had ever seen.
She was the one radiating the light, the fabric of her gown like a translucent, shifting cloak of light. I noticed she had a giant set of fluffy, feathered wings. In my sickly stupor, I wasn't comprehending what I was seeing. I shifted the pillows behind my back to get more comfortable without taking my eyes off of her.
“Who are you?” I didn't actually voice the question as I had barely formed it in my mind before she answered me. Again, there was no exchange of verbal words. I attempted to say her name the way I thought she had told me. “Amarni?”
I didn't have time to finish my thought before she shot back with a correction. “No, Imarni,” she said, placing great emphasis on the I. As quickly as she said it, the image of bold black letters were before my eyes, spelling out her name.
“OK, OK!” I grumbled in thought, “Don't get your feathers in a ruffle.” Not exactly the most polite way to speak to the first angel I'd ever met, but Hey! She woke me from some much needed sleep. “What does it mean?” I asked in reference to her name. I don't know why I asked such a question because name meanings weren't very important to me. All four of my children had been named because I liked the sound of them. I couldn't tell anyone the meanings if they asked me.
She answered that it meant “reliever of stress” or “helper of the stressed”. I've never been 100% clear on the exact meaning because her communications with me were in thought form. The best way I can describe the interaction is that it seemed more like a rapid exchange of ideas.
She very quickly disabused me of the idea that she was there to help me. She sort of lectured me on the importance of putting my energy into getting well. That was my only job at the moment. She was adamant that TT's welfare was her concern and that she was there to help her with her troubles and worries, while I needed to do what was medically recommended for my own welfare.
Though she radiated an intense feeling of love and care, she was very stern with me. It was like she knew how difficult I can be, and was determined to be firm and stand her ground. She knew that was the only way she would receive my undivided attention and compliance with the message she was relaying.
“Fine by me,” was my last thought communication as I slumped back on my pillows and closed my eyes. I was so very tired. The bright light beyond my closed eyelids dimmed until I could tell I was in total darkness. I popped open my eyes again, looking around the darkened room. A dull light from the street lamp outside, allowed me to make out the lines of the furniture placed around the room.
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I settled down in an attempt to get some sleep. It wasn't to be. I kept feeling like there was something else I was supposed to do. I'd doze off only to become alert again a few moments later. Finally, for a reason that was unknown to me, I proceeded to find paper and pen to write down the incident. When I was finished, I looked at the time on the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. I laid back down only to go through the same dozing and waking alertness as before.
Then it came to me. I needed to post the written story where TT would find it in the morning. Imarni's message wasn't only for me. I laid back down and never woke until the next afternoon.
Some might say that I was delirious with fever and illness, therefore, imagining what had transpired. But I know the wakeful state I had suffered for many hours as I tried in vain to get some sleep. I know that I sat up and fixed my pillows several times prior to her appearance, during her appearance, and after her appearance. I also know that prior to this experience I hadn't had a preference in whether angels existed or not. Given that I don't believe in coincidences, I had to pay attention to the experience because less than a month prior, when questioned about my belief in angels, I had stated that I didn't know and that I was sure they would make themselves known to me if they wanted me to know them.
I can not deny that their presence was made known to me, at a time, when it was most likely I needed to know.
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