Dad's Story

> 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 locker, 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.
>
> 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, when 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 large 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 a softened 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.
>
> You have just been sent an Angel to watch over you. Some people come
> into our lives and quickly go. Some people become friends and stay a
> while...leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts .. and we are never
> quite the same because we have made a good friend!!
>
> Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why
> it's called the present! Live and savor every moment...this is not a
> dress rehearsal!