I don’t believe in ghosts. This is not a ghost story. However.

Early one summer morning while living in Texas in ’93,  I was awakened by the sound of the phone ringing.  It was my mom who lived in Florida.  She sounded  upset.

“I had a dream about Steve last night,” she said.   Steve was my brother who we lost in a car wreck on  March 3,1973 at age 18.

Beth:   What did he say?

Mom:  He didn’t say anything.  He was just standing under a tree by the river.

Beth:   Well what did you say?

Mom:  I asked him if he’d wait for me. And he said yes.

Silence.

Beth:   Mom, I’m sure it didn’t mean anything.  You were just missing him and had a dream about him. That’s all. 

We visited a little more, with me reassuring her the dream didn’t mean anything, but I could tell she was still concerned when we hung up the phone. I did think it was a bit strange for her to have a dream about Steve 20 years after he was gone.

Fast forward a few weeks or more.  My turn.

I woke up one morning out of what felt like a vision.  Was it a vision or a dream?  I’ll never be sure.  My brother Steve was standing by my bed.  He didn’t look like he used to, but I knew it was him.  I felt calm, no fear at all, because he’s my brother.  I leaned over, picked up the phone and called my mom.  Telling her I had just seen Steve standing by my bed, she asked what he said.  “Nothing.  He was just standing there and then he was gone,”  I replied.

I never really gave it another thought.

Until.

My mom went in to have routine surgery to remove gallstones a few months later.  I received a call from someone in the family.  Was such a distressing conversation, I cant recall who gave me the news.   Forget gallstones.  My mother had been diagnosed with cancer.  It was covering her insides and they had given her 4 months to live.  I flew home immediately.  Sitting on the couch telling my mom about Shark Cartilage and other “cures” for cancer, a look of panic suddenly came into her eyes.

Mom:  Your dream. Do you remember your dream?

Beth:  No  (Silence.  Gasp)   Do you remember yours?  

Mom:   No.

We busted out crying.  It was a most bizarre moment in time.  We had both forgotten our dreams, then suddenly remembered each others dreams and then our own dreams.  I don’t recall that we ever spoke of the dreams again.

My mom passed away on Nov. 2, 1993, a month after she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

Getting ready for her funeral, in an effort to comfort my dad, I told him about mom and I both seeing Steve.

“I know sis.  Your mom told me about it a week ago and asked if she was going to die.”

What I’m writing right now isn’t about my precious little mom dying.

It’s about my brother Steve.  How he came to comfort us and let us know he was waiting for her. And how he, along with a band of angels, was standing by her bed when she took her last breath.  And they carried her home.  No, I didn’t see see him that night. Or the band of angels. But I know they were there.

I don’t believe in ghosts. This is not a ghost story.

This is about eternal life.  I know for a fact my brother is alive beyond the veil. And he walks along the river with my mom, dad and other family members who have gone on ahead.   And someday I shall join them in the sweet by & by.  Seriously. You can’t make this stuff up.  Thank you Lord.

Here’s a tune I wrote about my mom and Steve. And Gods amazing goodness and grace.  Hope you enjoy.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”  Revelations 21:4

Namaste. And so it is. Amen.

Wishing you well,

Beth