Mom and Dad had taken us kids to a pool party. I remember Jenny and I hadn't learned to swim yet; so while the older kids and adults swam we stayed in the shallow end. Dad was sitting poolside, watching the fun.
Jenny and I grabbed hold of the side of the pool and would shuffle along the wall until we could feel with our feet that the water got too deep for us to stand - but we had our hand hold for safety. When it got too deep for our toes to feel the bottom, Jenny stopped and said, "that's far enough. It's too deep." Dismissing the danger I decided to go around her and shuffle along a little further.
After successfully maneuvering around my older sister, I continued a couple more feet, holding onto the wall with my hands, my wet hands. And in an instant my little digits lost their grip, and I slipped straight down into the watery depths.
As I sank I looked up toward the light of the surface and saw the bubbles and churning water, and I knew that I was in trouble. Then, I remember vividly, seeing a large hand break the surface, reach down toward me and grab a handful of my hair (I had a LOT of hair as a little boy) and pluck me out of the water and onto the safety of the side. Dad had seen the whole thing and sprung to action in my moment of desperation and saved me from drowning.
The night my father passed away back in 1995 I remember my best friend, Mike Bradley, driving me up to the hospital in Show Low/Lakeside, AZ - a three hour drive. I had received the call from his mom telling me my dad had been in a car accident and was in the hospital, and that it didn't look good.
I didn't know exactly what to do, being away at college at the time, but I felt such a strong urge to get to him and to be with him to encourage him to pull through it or to comfort him and be at his side in his final moments. I was upset and not in the best state of mind, so Mike's mom wisely insisted that he drive me to Show Low immediately. To this day I am grateful for her wisdom during that situation and for Mike's friendship and sacrifice those days.
It was a quiet journey. I was deep in thought and staring out the passenger window into the starlit night sky as we traversed the San Carlos Apache Indian Reservation. It was shortly after 10PM, and - as I looked to the north over the Gila mountains toward Show Low - I suddenly felt a rush come over me, familiar as my father's love, and resound in me a message... "goodbye".
When we arrived late that night, my Aunt Jill and my Uncle Will were there waiting for us. Aunt Jill confirmed that he had passed away shortly after 10PM. I nearly collapsed in grief, if it wasn't for the support of dear Aunt Jill and Uncle Will. What I did realize later on was that the feeling I had felt earlier that same night was my father saying goodbye. Since I couldn't make it to him in time, his spirit went to me.
Dad was born on 4/4/44, and I always found it funny how he seemed obsessed with the number 4. Our phone numbers always had 4's in them. In fact, I know that when we moved to Snowflake, AZ he specifically requested that the phone company give us a number with lots of 4's when we set up phone service. The result: a "4441" suffix. Prior to that - "4774" and "4412". Hahaha! I remember that in 2004, on what would have been his 60th birthday, my brothers and sister gathered and offered a toast of Diet Coke (his favorite beverage) at 4:44 in the afternoon to honor his memory, his love and his legacy. I love and miss him.
...
When I started this blog shortly after moving to Austin, I mentioned a little about the difficulties I had been having: physically, psychologically/mentally, spiritually, and financially. At the time that I was laid off from my job, I was already dealing with thyroid issues which caused multiple system imbalances, higher stress, poor sleep, and depression. Grouped with yet another failed relationship, which profoundly weighed heavily on me and even contributed to the frustrations that came with it, these all presented a perfect storm for a collapse. Life had knocked me to the depths, and I felt I was slowly drowning.
The months of unemployment piled up along with my frustration. I was losing my savings, my house, my credit, along with my faith and my patience. Most of my days were spent online, searching for jobs, filling out applications, writing cover letters and polishing resumes.
To try and clear my mind I'd still go to a local small gym, whose staff was very kind and offered me a special unemployed rate. The exercise seemed to help a little.
One day while on the elliptical at the gym I had a powerful experience that nearly knocked me off the machine. While working out I glanced down at the exercise time on the machine. It read 44:44. I then looked at the clock on the wall, which read 4:44. I thought to myself, "that's odd", and then a sudden rush of recent memories flashed to mind; memories of how - over the prior few months - I had seen sequences of 4's everywhere... and often: the clock on my computer screen, when I'd check the time on my cell phone, even recent bill totals, balances and receipts. Then suddenly in that instant a huge wave enveloped me (similar to what I felt the night dad died), and in that moment I again felt dad's presence and love again. It was very comforting and encouraging - like an embrace. I was completely awestruck, and I headed for the gym exit in wonder and feeling my eyes start to water up. When I got in the car joyful tears spilled out. I was practically laughing and couldn't stop smiling. As crazy as it might sound, dad had found a way to communicate with me and just let me know he was near and offering his encouragement. I cannot express how comforting this knowledge was. And these "signs" of the number 4 continued for months thereafter, but then they tapered off sometime in mid to late 2010, after I moved to Austin and started to get back on my feet.
I'm feeling better than before as I continue to try and put life's pieces together, find balance and answers and a foothold to start moving forward once again. It is proving to be a long, difficult road. Some of it does not come easily, and patience has been a hard thing to learn, but I'm trying.
I don't know exactly how angels operate, but it seemed that during that very difficult time of my life, my Heavenly Father had answered my prayers for help and sent an angel to my rescue. It just so happened that that particular angel had also been my earthly father, who once again was plucking me up from the depths.
Now and then I will come across a sequence of 4's and every time it causes me to pause and remember. Sometimes, when I see these 4's, I find myself whispering, "hey dad" and smile. This all may sound strange to some, as sometimes it may when anyone speaks of "signs" or their own spiritual experiences - but spiritual experiences are personal matters and affect people differently. All I know is that these faith-boosting experiences reinforce my witness that there is a God in Heaven and that He is aware of us and loves us, and that in our moments of need, when we're in over our heads, He finds ways to help as we seek His assistance. I am forever thankful to Him for His help during that most difficult time.
Happy Father's Day, Dad! We love and miss you every day.
