[Gpdd] MISC: A SHORT STORY I WANT TO SHARE; OT

[jaaladog]

Hello everyone,

First, please allow me to thank you all for the many messages of support and 
love you have sent to me the last few days.  You have shown me more love and 
concern than my own family has, which is a whole other story for a whole 
other venue  such as the  Dr. Phil show.  :)

Because we all love our babies and most of us believe there is an afterlife 
where piggies and humans alike run free, healthy and happy, I want to share 
this with you.  This happened to me and it still awes me.

I have always loved and collected butterflies.  Before I lost my sight in 
1983, I made many cross stitch patterns of them and still have them all over 
my house.  In 1987, I underwent a kidney transplant after being on dialysis 
for about 18 months and being very close to death.

While I was recovering in the hospital, my daddy walked into my room late 
one evening with a long slender box in his hand.  He opened it  for me and 
took out a lovely  bracelet of little tiny interlocking silver butterflies. 
He put it around my wrist and told me that this was to symbolize my freedom 
from sickness and my new ability to spread my wings and fly.  I treasured 
that gift, not only because it was especially from my Daddy, but because of 
what it' significance was to me as well.

Well, during the last days of my daddy's stay at the hospital, I took a 
copper butterfly down from the mirror of my dresser.  It was probably 4 
inches across, with wings open.  You could bend it to however you wanted it 
to appear and it had a small loop that attached on each end to the middle of 
a wing.  It was somewhat bent and battered but I thought that was rather 
appropriate, considering all my father had been through.

One evening, while just he, Earl & I were together in his room, he was 
sleeping as I took the butterfly and hung it on the IV pole over his head. I 
told him about how much it meant to me when he brought me a butterfly so 
many years ago and that now, I wanted him to have one to symbolize his 
freedom to go and fly and be with God and the angels.    To let him go was 
the hardest thing I have ever had to do but I wanted him to let go and no 
longer suffer.  I also knew that he would go easier and more quickly knowing 
that I would be OK and that I wanted him to go.    I then asked him to 
please, when he was with God and looking down on me, whenever he thought of 
me or wanted to let me know he was around, to send me butterflies.

At that point, I sat down beside his bed and just laid my forehead on the 
bar of his bed and cried.  About 5 minutes later, one of the hospital 
chaplains came into the room.  She saw that I was obviously distraught and 
asked was there anything she could do or any questions she could answer.  I 
told her that neither she nor anyone else living on this earth could 
possibly answer the questions that I had and still have and that quite 
frankly, I was very, very angry with God.  (Except I didn't say *angry*)  :)

She took me by the hand and said "Let's go out in the hall and talk."  So, 
we did.  After a good 10 minute chat, during which time she told me it was 
OK to be angry as long as I didn't quit talking to God altogether, I 
realized I liked this lady.  Then, the most amazing thing happened... I told 
her about the butterfly I just hung over my father's bed.  I didn't tell her 
about asking him to send me butterflies.  She took my hand and said.  " I 
have always loved butterflies.  My nickname in high school was butterfly." 
A chaplain named Butterfly?  My jaw dropped.  Then, she took my hand and 
brought it to her neck to show me her necklace.  There it was,  a gold 
butterfly with two entwined hearts inside of it.  That was it for me.  I 
just fell into her arms.  But, that's what I want all of you to know.  Even 
though my daddy was still physically here, his spirit, I believe had already 
begun it's journey to Heaven and he heard me.  And God heard me.  And 
*someone*( sent me that precious butterfly message.    At Daddy's funeral, I 
took that same butterfly, bent and battered though it was,  and laid it on 
his chest, just over his heart.  So, a piece of me will now always be with 
him and I know his spirit is with me.

So, please never give up the belief that our little guys and girls will be 
over there, watching us and waiting for us to join them again.  Whether you 
believe in God, Buddha, Allah, Muhammad or just a higher power, at least 
know that there is something to look forward to after this life is over. 
One last note:  my sister in law, who along with her husband, runs a plant 
nursery,sent me, for the funeral, .... a butterfly bush.  A coincidence?  I 
think not...


With love, gratitude and hugs & whisker kisses from the girls,

Lynn, Samantha & Tabitha

P.S.  Samantha says to tell you all that she holds no grudges against that 
no good two timing bore or that little hussy sow.  Ahem.  I think she meant 
to say, it's OK.  she understands.