Growing up in Heaven, Terri Collins [short books to read txt] 📗

Faith woke up smiling. She looked to the glowing numbers on her alarm clock. Three A.M.. It wasn't a nightmare but it was the strangest feeling for Faith. She had definatley had more than her fair share of nightmares, sleep walking episodes, Insomnia, etc. Since she was a child she never had an entire nights sleep. Growing up her sister and mom had told her stories of her escapades during the night.

Harmless things. Finding her in the basement on several occasions her mother had told her when she grew up.

"You were not old enough to walk. I have no idea how you made it to the basement at two in the morning without breaking your neck. I always found you in the back room. Always that one room. I couldn't chain you in bed that would have been abuse, but after the first time I found you gone the idea had crossed my mind. You would have had to roll down all those basement stairs. After the first time and the second, when you went missing at that age I knew where you were. Always scared me." Her mom had told her this story several times with amusement but also with genuine parent horror.

Faith had heard this story several times. Now that she was an adult she didn't want to tell her mom she did remember rolling down the basement stairs to follow another child to that room. She still remembered the image of the little red headed child her age. She remebered playing, and singing, and talking. It was a vision. But a live ineractive one. Looking back now that little child was a mystery. She never told anyone. The little girl was definately not an imaginary friend. As she grew up she realized she seen things others didn't. She could hear things others didn't. At times her family and friends thought she was crazy when they would sneak up on her having a full conversation with a wall. In middle school she didn't have bully's, or enemies, but she was different if spoken by another peer who didn't know her very well. She never took it personally, but she did learn to hold her tongue. She didn't want others to think she was needing therapy to cure some type of mental illness.


Chapter 2

She just dealt with her gift. Her close friends and family knew she was special. One example. She had known her dad had some type of illness when she was ten. She actually had physical problems herself first. She was weak, and tired all the time. She had grown very thin although she ate all her food on her plate during meals. Her mom had took her to the Dr. and the Dr. had shook his head in puzzlement.

"Blood tests and all other tests had all come back normal. Maybe it is just a growth spur. Maybe puberty was the answer." The Dr. had said outside the examining room. She had been embarrased but she really had felt sick. And weight loss was evident.

It was after she remembered growing more tired when she was around her dad. She could actually see a bright white shadow encircle her fathers figure when she was near him. She had told her mom this but her mom looked at her with a skeptical eye. Dismissing a ten year olds imagination she had assumed at the time.

One morning she sat eating breakfest with her dad. She noticed he was not really eating his biscuits and gravy my mom had made. He was just moving it around on his plate. The white glow she seen had turn a light shade of yellow.

"Dad you okay?" she had asked while sitting at the table
"Yes of cource, why do you ask?" he had replied.
"Because you aren't eating." I replied
"Oh that, I ate early before I had come in from work. Guess I am just still full from that."

I seen my mom look at me out of the corner of her eye and hadn't said a word. I remembered thinking doesn't she see he isn't eating?

Later that same day we were eating chicken soup when the telephone rang. My mom answered the phone, spoke to the caller, and begun to cry and handed my dad the phone. My dad took the phone into the other room spoke in a whiser so we couldn't overhear and hung the phone back up. He walked over to my mom and tried to console her sniffle cries. The results had been Thyroid Cancer. My dad had went through intensive radiation, and had his thyroid removed. Remission took time but he had survived. I began to get better when dad did. Still everyone thought for me it was a puberty thing.

Last year I myself had become very ill. The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong. I lost wieght, and could barely funtion. I was sure I would die before they found out what it was. I had went to visit my mom on her birthday. And it was then I knew. My dad had that yellow glow around him again.

"Dad you feeling okay?" I had pulled him aside to ask this.
"Sure why?"
That was my dad. Never to complain. He was always quiet and a gentle man. Neve to let on when anything was wrong.

One month later my dad was diagnosed with terminal stage 4 cancer. Nothing they could do. It was the worst thing to sit with my mom and dad when they had told him this news. I held strong. I held my breath during the rest of that appointment. My mom had held strong also. I don't know how we held that strong for dad.

Two months after my dad ended up in hospice. He didn't want recitation. I was there everyday. Four days had gone by and he had the darkest yellow shadow around his from of his body as he lay in bed. The hospice nurses sat us down and said he was a 2. I asked what a 2 was.

"We do a scale to 5 here. 5 being grave. Today right now at this moment he is a 2. But at anytime he could go worse. I've seen it happen several times." The nurse explained this to me and my mom and other family and friends. I had to run out of the room to not break down in front of everyone. I had to look and stay strong. On my way back in the nurse stopped me.

"You okay? I know this is hard. I speak to you most because you seem to be strong even though I know this is a very hard thing to go through. I understand I lost my dad also recently."

"Thank you. I'm sorry I had to leave. I didn't want to break down in front of everyone."

"you know he could go home tomorow. He is doing quite well and he says he wants to go home."

"Really did you tell my mom?"

"Yes I did. But I tell you what. If he changes at anytime I will call you. I have your number."

"Thanks." was all I could say. My heart was telling me something and better wasn't what it was telling me.

I had told my dad I loved him and would see him the next day. He told me he loved me to. A very bright white light surrounded his entire body frameas as he lay thin and fragile in his bed.

I walked out of his room. Thinking maybe my heart is wrong. A miracle may happen.

That night I didn't sleep. I had major anxiety, At times I couldn't breathe.

My cell phone rang at seven in the morning.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" I asked.

"Is this Faith?" a women asked.

"Yes.."

"This is judy from Hospice... I spoke to you yesterday... Your dad is worse today. I don't think he is going home tommorow."

"Did you call my mom?"

"No.."

"Why?

"Well your mom is hard of hearing and I didn't want to sound like I was screaming this over the phone line."

"I'll be right there."

I called my mom immediately. On our way I had repeatedly told my mom why she hadn't called her, Judy's reasons.. My mom didn't understand but I think I did. When I was around strangers they always picked up quickly with me. I was a good listener, but I always felt I pulled there energy into mine and that is why in time like this I was called but not my mom. My mom felt hurt they hadn't called her but I had to dismiss it and think "Lets just get there. I don't think there is much time"

Dad lay in his bed when we walked in and was sleeping. The glow around him had become even brighter. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I had the worst headache, the worst nausea, and my breathing had come to uncontolled I begged a nurse to get me a brown bag to breathe in. My emotions were in a tight tangle.

When I got my bearings, I walked back to my dads room.

"He's gone..." my sister stood beside my mom.

"What?"

I was afraid to move, blink, or even breath. My dad was on his back. Mouth open. I looked to his chest. Not moving. Dad breathe I thought. This isn't happening.He looked like he was in a deep sleep.

Not a sound sitrred in the room. There was no white glow, yellow glow, blue glow...nothing around his body.

It was then I nealt at his feet and prayed and cried silently.

I have never forgiven myself for not being in the room when he left this earth. I was too busy hyperventilating in a bathroom.