Angels And Messengers: "Daddy will never have gray hair."

This life holds many mysteries. Of the millions it generates the greatest mystery of all, death. Of course the greatest mystery also happens to be the most difficult. For some of us we have had the great fortune of receiving a spiritual gift. An insight, a knowledge of sorts. For some it's been evident since childhood, for others it comes later. Either way, getting a glimpse into the unknown goes far beyond simple speculation, theory, or ideas, and falls into the category of real evidence. Unexplainable, but real.

This is what happened to me.

From the time I was very little, I saw angels. In my case, they were messengers. There were three. They were beautiful, all females, and all crystal clear. They were only visible around my father. They hovered close behind him. They watched me play with him, they watched me snuggle him, and jump on him like he was a jungle gym. I had an odd obsession with his hair. It was thick and porus, wavey and dark. I would climb up on his lap and run my fingers back and forth messing it up. Then I'd giggle and tell him how silly he looked. It was so thick I could stand it on end making him look like a crazy Einstein. Sometimes I'd press it down flat and give him bangs, making him look like a Beatle's reject! He never batted an eye, he let me play.

In retrospect, I know now that my obsession with Dad's hair, wasn't an obsession, but a glimpse of knowledge. Knowledge from my soul. Perhaps a memory of the contract I made with God before being born into this flesh. Perhaps a soul memory of my connection to Dad in the spiritual world. Whatever it was, it was no coincidence that his hair held a secret about the future.

The first time I saw them was on a Sunday after church, I was in the livingroom with Dad waiting for Mom to get the dinner on the table. In my typical fashion, I was on his lap twisting and twirling his hair. I remember jumping off his lap and going to get a brush. I came back and started brushing his hair into perfect form. I told him I was going to make him handsome (and he was handsome!) As I stood in front of him brushing his hair, he worked aimlessly to see the Packers game on TV. I told him to sit still while I fixed him up. He gently nudged me to the side to get me out of his line of vision. When he moved me to the side, the Angels appeared. Just like that, they were there. Three different ages (or seemed like) The first was the oldest and appeared to me to be thirtyish. The second seemed more in her late teens, early twenties. The third was about thirteen, maybe fourteen. They were smiling. They were glowing, and they giggled with me. I wasn't stunned, I wasn't so much as phased. It seemed I knew them. Without actually using voices or sound, at least how we know it, they asked me if I knew how much Daddy loved me. They told me I was lucky, and that he was special. They told me he loved me for a very long time, as did I love him for a very long time. The main message though, the one they told me everytime I saw them was: "Daddy will never have gray hair." They always said it with gentle, loving smiles. Wisdom radiated from them, and the message was never anything less than loving. In other words, they made me feel perfectly safe with it.

Everytime I played with his hair the thought would be in my mind, that it (his hair) would never be gray. Sometimes I actually hummed the notion out loud while I played, as if it was a little song in my head, and the lyrics were "Daddy will never have gray hair."I guess I didn't realize the significance of that when I was little. To me, it simply meant his hair was dark and would always be dark. By the time I was about nine or ten they stopped coming around, at least as visible entities. I grew older and the message of gray hair wasn't a common thought. It kind of disappeared from my mind. In fact, I never thought about it again. I did however sense strongly that my Dad would never live to be old, even though Dad was one of those people who always appeared very youthful. Well peserved, and he didn't seem to age much. He was athletic and healthy. He took good care of himself.

In 1988 ,I was 26 years old. I was in my apartment Friday June 3rd. studying for a college exam with my best friend Wendy, and a guy I was dating, Paul. We were sitting at my kitchen table, when suddenly I felt them. I was surrounded by their loving energy. It was so familiar. I knew immediately it was the three angels, and though I couldn't see them, their message was loud and clear. Gently they told me to prepare myself. As soon as I heard the message, I started to talk loudly to Wendy. Just stupid talk. I wanted to talk above them, like to ignore what I was hearing. I went into instant denial. I just remember trying to pretend I didn't hear them or sense them. I got up and went in the bathroom, held a towel over my mouth and cried. "No! No! NO! Please please go away! Please stop!" I begged them to leave me alone, but they reminded me something bigger than me, and something I always knew, was going to happen, and that it would all be okay, and that it was part of the agreement. A loving agreement, and 'it was time.'

Wendy started banging on the door. "Laur, what's wrong? Are you okay?" I just froze. I didn't want to say anything because that might solidify what just happened. If I said nothing, maybe it would all go away. I ignored her for a minute or two, until she started pounding on the door. She knew me very well and her instinct was telling her something was very wrong. I opened the door and with tears in my eyes I said, "Wendy it's Dad! Don't you understand?! They're coming for him!" I told her something was going to happen, and that it was bigger than all of us, and that there was NOTHING we could do! I'll never forget the look on her face, like her skin was paralyzed, and the color drained from her face. She actually got mad. She yelled at me to shut up, "JUST SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" she kept saying. Paul stood in bewilderment because he couldn't imagine what the heck was happening. Wendy though, she knew I knew something. She'd known me many years, and she had come to trust my odd, unexplainable, psychic capabilities.

One week later, Friday June 10th, Wendy and I were busy getting the last minute party supplies needed for our combined birthday party scheduled for Saturday night. My birthday is June 8th, hers is June 17th, and we were throwing a big celebration. After a full day of running all over town, setting up decorations, and preparing food, we decided to call it a night around 9:30pm. I went home, took a shower and crawled into bed. Something inside me had been ticking away all day that day. A vibe. Not a good vibe. When I layed down that night, I tried to tell myself it was all in my head, but my intuition would not leave me alone. I layed down and closed my eyes. I felt so restless. Then... I had a vision. In my vision we were at the party. Everybody was having a great time, until we heard a loud smash. Someone came running in the house yelling my name. "Come quick!" they screamed. I got to the front door and there on the front lawn was a crashed car smoking and hissing. I stood in the doorway for a second, and then realized it was my brothers car. I started to run towards it, but my body wasn't getting anywhere. I seemed to be running as fast as I could run but I wasn't moving, well actually I was moving, but in horrifying slow motion. I just couldn't get to him fast enough. As I got closer I could see a slumped body in the car, I was screaming to God to let me go! Let me get to the car! Suddenly it felt as if I was unleashed, and that whatever force was holding me back, let me loose. I lurched forward towards the car. I reached for the door handle, but before I could open it, a body of a man simultaneously merged from my left side, and before I could open the door, he intervened and pushed my arm aside, and reached for the handle himself. He opened the door, and while he was leaning down into the car, he turned towards me. It was my Dad. He looked me clear in the face and said, "Get help NOW." His voice was loud and clear, and very matter of factly. I flung straight up off my bed and looked at the clock which said 11:17. My brothers birthday! 11/17! Frantic. I felt frantic. I thought something surely was going to happen to my brother Robb, if it hadn't already, or possibly it was a premonition of something that might happen at the party! I layed back down and planned to call Wendy in the morning to tell her I had a bad feeling, and that I was considering cancelling the party. I layed there feeling very uneasy. My intuition was screaming something very bad.

I forced myself to shut my eyes, but could do nothing but toss and turn. Suddenly at

12:27am. the phone rang. It shot through me like a knife. I grabbed it on the first ring and yelled "Oh my God, what happened to Robb?!" The voice on the other end was my Mom. In a monotone voice, completely emotionless, she said, "No. Not Robb. Laurie, you have to get over here. I think Dad's dead.The ambulance took him to West Allis Memorial Hospital"

Her voice was completely robotic. Obviously she was in great shock. I began to shake from head to toe. I somehow managed to call Wendy, and remember blurting out what Mom had said, and remember her saying she's on her way. Everything became completely surreal. Wendy arrived in an absurd ten minutes. My knees were weak, but I managed to run to her car. She drove 95 miles per hour down Forest Home Avenue (a 35mph zone) running every red light! I yelled at her to slow down, and she replied "Everything will be okay Laur! He'll be okay!" which was a complete lie because she had information from her mother, who happened to be a nurse in the ER at West Allis Memorial, and whom she called immediately after receiving my call. Wendy knew Dad was gone.

We flew into the drive way, and the doors flung open before the car even stopped. I ran to the front door, but froze. I turned to look to Wendy where she stood still under the moonlight. No words were spoken but she seemed to be saying go inside Laur. Go inside.

The rest, as you can imagine was beyond discription. The shock, the emotion, the anguish was simply undescribable on that warm spring night.

June 10th 1988, Dad was pronounced dead. The time of death as estimated by the coroner was sometime between 11:00pm and 11:30 pm. I'm certain he died at 11:17pm that night. He was 46 years old, and he had a full head of dark hair. In the days following his death, something happened. Something I will never forget. Though he was physically gone from this earth, something remained. He came to show me....