Today I Read a Dying Man’s Thoughts and Feelings

About three months ago, my friend was showing me pictures from her girls’ weekend away.  As we were laughing and flipping through the images on her iPhone, one picture stood out.  It was one of her friends smiling happily at the camera as she stood there waiting for her picture to be taken.  Images started to enter my mind and the words “husband issues”.  She didn’t feel divorced.  In fact, she felt happily married.  I could see a very attractive man in a suit whom she liked very much.  Again the words repeated again and again.

I had to ask.  “Does this woman have husband issues?”  

“Why do you ask?” My friend responded.  She is very aware of my abilities.  She watches me read my students all of the time, so she definitely believes that I see things that do not seem possible.

“Every time I look at her, I hear the words husband issues.  Does that make sense to you?”

“What else do you see?”  I described the husband and explained how she felt happy in her marriage, so these words did not make sense.  “Well, while we were away, her husband’s building where he worked had a fire.  He is a big business guy and all of the offices in his building were destroyed by the fire and the water as they tried to put it out.  Intrigued, she wanted me to read more.  There was her friend who I could read was a nurse who hated her job and was struggling with drug addiction.  She had me look at her sister who had serious animosity and was hiding some of her mother’s things in her closet until after her mother died.  Everything I felt was validated and very true.  I realized that I could read vibes through photographs, which I had always wondered at, but I never got actual validation.

Today she me a photograph of an older couple.  It was clearly taken in the 70s.  

“Why do you want me to look at this?”  I asked.

“Just tell me what you think,” she said.  At first I felt nothing, and then I felt something from the man in the picture.  He is sick. He is dying.  He cannot speak.  I kept feeling like I wanted to speak. I felt like I had so much to say, and I couldn’t get the words out. I told my friend all of this.  She nodded her validation.  His wife was another story.  At first I wanted to say that she was dead or they were divorced. I felt a separation, but then I also felt like she was caring for him through this time.  It didn’t make any sense.

“He’s ready to die, but he’s afraid.  Why do I feel like his wife is there helping him, but he doesn’t see her or appreciate her help?”

“Well,” she answered, “she died eighteen years ago.”  So that made sense.  She was clearly by his side, but he just couldn’t see her yet.

“His body wants to die, but he is so afraid.  It feels like he wants a religious person there,  but he feels like he is unworthy.  He feels the need to be forgiven, but he is afraid that he will be rejected.  Has he broken from his religion?”

She nodded again.  “He was a born-again Christian, and he left the church.”  I kept putting my hand up to my mouth as if a could project my words.  The fear he was feeling was coursing through me.  I kept getting chills through my whole body.  

“He can’t say it. He almost doesn’t want to say it, but he needs to see a priest or a pastor.  That’s what’s holding up his death.  He is ready, but he is so afraid.”  It was at this point that my friend, Cindy, told me that she showed me this picture because another of her friends asked her to.  This is a picture of her friend’s father.  He is dying from lung cancer and cannot speak.  He is still holding on and no one knows why.  Her friend was hoping I could help.  Again I felt chills through my whole body.

“Cindy,” I said, “I know I am not always right, but I am right this time.  I can feel this very clearly.  He needs a religious figure to forgive him.  I know this is right and real.”

Even now I am here in my living room watching Blue’s Clues with my boys, and I can feel this man’s fear.  I will never meet him or even his daughter, but I know what he is feeling as he dies.  I hope this helps him.  I keep praying that someone listens or that some comfort can get to that man so he can know what I know.  Death is only the beginning.  He has nothing to fear.  

This experience makes me feel good that i can help and scared of what I can see.  How much farther down does this rabbit hole go?