There are many books, testimonials, and arguments about life after death. Theories regarding Heaven and hell, believing in God or not, and the truth is, there always will be.
It is my sincere belief there is a God and life after death. I was taught to believe in both, but I am confirmed in my faith by things I have witnessed. This truth became apparent by a wickedly funny brother and “S” hooks.
How many times in our lives have we experienced something surreal, coincidental, or mysterious? How many times have we tried to sweep those events under the rug?
How many people have you heard say their dearly departed mother, brother, or sister talk to them in a dream or a room after their loved ones left this earth?
You ask some of these same folks, and they are still unsure Heaven exists. Skeptical, cynical, scared; who knows why. I can tell you one thing for sure: death will happen.
It happened to my brother. John received a diagnosis of terminal cancer at the age of fifty-two. He was almost seven years older and always seventy years smarter than I was. He was an engineer, a lover of all things political, and dedicated to his beloved Navy.
John was a Vietnam veteran, a father of two, and a defender and protector of his only sister. He and I were about as different as molasses and vinegar, but we loved one another immensely.
Before my brother died after a three-year illness, he could not walk. He would sit in his oversized recliner, look out the window, and watch the redbirds eating seed out of their feeder. He would laugh at how they would vie for food, flutter their wings, and spread their silly joy into his space.
I don’t remember John enjoying watching birds before his illness, but when life’s door closes, I think you are desperately searching for earthly living treasures. Things that have been there all along the way, but suddenly, you notice them now as little gifts to ease your burdens.
On an early April morning, John Walker took his last breath. I can envision the red birds accompanying his flight toward Heaven in some corner of my mind.
Once I returned to work after his death, my friends gave me a birdhouse. “We wanted to give you something you would treasure to remember his love.” A wonderful gift.
A few weeks passed, and one Saturday, I decided it was time to hang my birdhouse. It resembled an old wood-sided, rustic country home. A magnificent Japanese magnolia was next to my rocking chair-filled front porch. It was the perfect place for it to hang.
I went to the garage to get a chain and an “S” hook to attach the feeder from a tree limb. I owned a workbench with a pegboard above, tools hanging, and little cubbies for tacks, nails, brads, screws, etc., including “S” hooks.
To my frustration, I could not find the “S” hooks! All I needed was one, and I knew they were there!!
“I am not going to Home Depot for one hook!” I yelled aloud.
“John, if you want me to hang this birdfeeder, tell me where the hooks are!!!!”
Suddenly, I felt something fall on top of my feet. My feet were near the bottom shelf of the workbench where I stored old tools and a few baskets.
A basket had fallen on my foot, but I had not touched the shelf. The basket was brimming with “S” hooks. About fifty or more were now all over the floor and on top of my feet.
For a moment, I went silent, then I laughed. If I tell you that was my brother, THAT was my brother! He knew I would have to pick up all fifty to get one! I could hear his laughter mixed with mine, and I understood he was alive and still full of wicked humor.
Through the years, there have been many “glimpses” of my brother and others who have gone on to another life. Living has taught me death is nothing to fear unless one is afraid to walk through God’s door.
The years passed, and every spring, I would ask my best friend and coworker, Krista, what day my brother died. She would say, “April 29th.” I asked her so many times she wrote it down.
“I don’t know why I can’t remember the date!” I would exclaim.
Later, Krista died at fifty-two from cancer, and pure joy left this earth. Tears streamed down my face as I bid her farewell at her church service. I opened her program, and because grief is consuming, I had not realized that she went to Heaven’s welcoming arms on April 29th.
She knew I would never forget the date again.
You may believe all of this is a coincidence, a mystery. I say it’s God whispering that life and laughter continue through knowing Him.
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Lynn Walker Gendusa is a Georgia author and columnist. Her work is regularly featured on NowHabersham.com and in publications around the country through the USA Today Network. Lynn’s stories have appeared in senior magazines as well as in Guideposts. Her latest book is “Southern Comfort: Stories of Family, Friendship, Fiery Trials, and Faith.” She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com. For more of her inspirational stories, click here.
