An Angel Called My Name: Incredible true stories from the other side. Theresa Cheung
that explains why we all have a little groove above our mouth and below our nose, called the philtrum. According to the story this little groove is called an Angel’s kiss: on the day we are born we already know all about the angelic world, but our guardian angel puts a finger there to help us forget, so that we don’t spend our lives full of regret and longing to return.
This story reminds us that angels are healers, protectors and bearers of wisdom, but most of all they are our friends. They laugh with us and they cry with us. They know us better then we know ourselves and even though we can’t always see or hear them, as Nicola’s story shows, they always have our best interests at heart.
Invisible Kisses
My mother always told me that she didn’t want me to see her body after she had died. She wanted me to remember her alive and vibrant so when the doctor asked if I wanted to say one last goodbye I said no.
A day before the funeral my aunt and uncle asked the same question and once again I said no. They pressured me, saying that even though she had lost a lot of weight she looked peaceful, but I remembered what my mum had told me. I was pressured again by my husband who told me that seeing my mum would be a healing process, but I had made my mind up. Everyone said I would regret my decision one day.
About an hour before the funeral I went to my bedroom to gather my thoughts. Tears welled up in my eyes. I thought of my mother lying cold and motionless in her coffin. Perhaps I should have given her one last kiss? Perhaps everyone was right and I needed the closure?
At that moment I felt a refreshing breeze on my face. The breeze was so strong it wiped some of my tears away. My bedroom door was closed and there were no windows open. I knew it was my mother.
During the funeral I focused on the happy times mum and I had shared and as I said my last goodbyes I felt invisible lips kiss my cheeks on both sides. I closed my eyes and saw an image of my mum smiling and dancing, just as she wanted me to remember her. I knew then that I had made the right decision. From then on, whenever I thought of her she would always be dancing and smilingby my side.
There are many ways for our loved ones to come to us, to affirm that they are still living in spirit. Invisible kisses and puffs of air are often reported, as are scents. The strong smell of chocolate is a common theme. Flower scents are also frequently reported, in particular strong-smelling ones like gardenias, roses and lavender. This is Margaret’s moving story.
Winter Roses
Eric was my soulmate and it was hard for me to contemplate life without him. We had been married for 25 years. We met when we were both 18. I can remember the first time I saw him. We were both invited to a mutual friend’s party. I was incredibly shy but this handsome, confident guy just came over and introduced himself. He made me laugh and we talked all evening. When it was time to leave he offered to walk me home.
That walk home was magical. It was snowing but I felt warm inside. Eric told me that the thing he hated most about winter was that the rose-growing season was over. He loved the smell of roses in summer. I can’t explain why but it was at that exact moment that I knew I was in love with him. Eight years later we were married. When we moved into our first home one of the first things we did was plant dozens of rose bushes in our garden.
I can honestly say we had a wonderful marriage; sure, we had our disagreements but the love between us was so strong it could conquer anything. We weren’t blessed with children but we were blessed with each other. Losing him after a two-year battle with prostate cancer felt like the end of the world for me. I stopped eating. I stopped going out. I wanted to die. I made a few fragile attempts to step back into life but I missed my Eric so badly I thought I would never be able to go on.
Then one night in the middle of winter I woke up and there was a heavy scent of roses in the air. I got up and went into the garden. There was thick snow covering the rose bushes and the ground was frozen. The scent was definitely coming from inside the house even though there were no fresh or dried flowers inside. As I went from room to room the scent seemed to grow stronger. It’s hard to describe, but I knew Eric was there with me using the scent of roses in winter to take me back to the moment I fell in love with him. He was trying to comfort me. He was sending me a message that I was still living and my life needed to go on. I started to cry because I knew that he wanted me to let go. As I made a silent promise to him to move on the scent vanished.
Although I shall miss Eric deeply until the day I die, the scent of roses that night gave me the strength I needed. It was his way of letting me know that he is watching over me. He had always said if there was a way to reach me after death he would; so he was just keeping his promise.
Stories of clocks stopping, lights flickering, alarms bleeping and music suddenly playing are other surprisingly typical ways for loved ones to let us know they haven’t left us. George shares his remarkable experience.
Wake Up and Smell the Coffee
My sadness was drowning me. I felt that my life was useless. My wife had died suddenly. I could not accept that she had gone. Why did she have to go now when we had retired early to enjoy life?
A week after my wife died our dog, Poppy, stopped eating. She got so weak I had to have her put to sleep. Two losses within a month! I lost a stone. I wasn’t eating. Food didn’t interest me. Life didn’t interest me.
My brother and sister-in-law called round every day to invite me for coffee or to go shopping. Friends phoned and letters and cards dropped through the letterbox but wherever I went it was always the same – I was alone. A year passed like this and then the ‘signs’ started.
One night my sister came for dinner. She suggested visiting the dogs’ home the following day to choose a new dog. She told me that taking care of the dog and getting lots of fresh air walking it would do me the world of good. I told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t ready for a dog. I wasn’t ready for anything. I asked her to leave. No sooner had she shut the door behind her than the light bulb blew in the hall. I didn’t think anything of it but then I went into the kitchen and another light bulb blew. I looked at my watch. It was just after 7 pm so I decided to get some new bulbs in the morning.
I slumped on the sofa to while away the hours watching television. I must have nodded off briefly because I woke with a start. The TV wasn’t on. I tried fiddling with it but it wouldn’t work. Then all of a sudden I heard a noise coming from upstairs. I rushed up into my bedroom and saw that my wife’s jewellery box was open. The little ballerina inside was twirling around to its Swan Lake tune. I had given it to my wife as a first anniversary present. It had stopped playing many years ago, although my wife had tried it many times.
I went back downstairs and as I stood in the hall, I felt a cool breeze go by me. Then I was hit by the strong aroma of coffee I used to smell every morning when my wife was up making breakfast and toast. I knew then that my wife had come to help me. On the floor was the note my sister had left with the phone number of the dogs’ home. My wife wanted me to love something again.
Elated, I rang my sister saying I had changed my mind and I did think a dog was a good idea. She was delighted but sounded a little disorientated. I asked her what was wrong and she asked me if I knew what time it was. I glanced at the clock on my mantelpiece and it said 7 pm. My sister told me that my clocks must be wrong because it was actually 11 pm. I looked at my wrist watch and it also said 7 pm, exactly the time my sister left that evening.
The next morning I did go to the dogs’ home and I chose a beautiful little puppy. Taking care of and training a new dog was exactly the tonic I needed. I know my wife is still with me, especially in the mornings when I wake up and smell the aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen downstairs, even though I actually drink tea instead of coffee. My wife was the coffee pot every morning, not me. My new dog recognizes the smell. He will often get up on all fours and begin sniffing around in the kitchen, raising his head up and sniffing the air. I’m so glad he can smell it too.
I’m aware that so far the stories in this chapter have been rather