In 1976 my father was critically ill in the Royal Sussex with cancer. He had had his stomach and spleen removed, but the operation had taken too much out of him.
We were sitting around his bed, my mum, myself (aged 14) and my sister (aged 11). We watched the priest give him the last rites, everyone was in tears, it was a truly horrible experience.
I watched as his heart monitor slowed down, like a watch running out of time. Finally it stopped, I looked at my mum, she was too beside herself to have seen what happened. For what seemed an eternity my father, to all intents and purposes, was dead.
The nurse in the corner of the ward started to approach, but then, miraculously, the heart monitor started again, a slow pulse, but gaining strength.
My father, who was not given to telling stories, later said that he was aware of the family being around him, the priest blessing him, preparing him for death, he could hear the family in grief around him.
Then at the foot of the bed he saw a vision of his Uncle Mick, who had passed away a year before, and had helped bring up my father when his own dad died. Mick told my father that his time had not yet come, he still had work to do with the family. As that moment passed my old man said that he was aware of moving from one world to another, then back again.
My father made a recovery that the consultant said was inexplicable. He lived for another 13 years before being killed back in Iteland, in a tragic accident falling down the stairs over the family cat and going through the front window of the door at the bottom of the stairs.
I don't believe in God, or ghosts, but I do believe what my father told me happened that day.
We were sitting around his bed, my mum, myself (aged 14) and my sister (aged 11). We watched the priest give him the last rites, everyone was in tears, it was a truly horrible experience.
I watched as his heart monitor slowed down, like a watch running out of time. Finally it stopped, I looked at my mum, she was too beside herself to have seen what happened. For what seemed an eternity my father, to all intents and purposes, was dead.
The nurse in the corner of the ward started to approach, but then, miraculously, the heart monitor started again, a slow pulse, but gaining strength.
My father, who was not given to telling stories, later said that he was aware of the family being around him, the priest blessing him, preparing him for death, he could hear the family in grief around him.
Then at the foot of the bed he saw a vision of his Uncle Mick, who had passed away a year before, and had helped bring up my father when his own dad died. Mick told my father that his time had not yet come, he still had work to do with the family. As that moment passed my old man said that he was aware of moving from one world to another, then back again.
My father made a recovery that the consultant said was inexplicable. He lived for another 13 years before being killed back in Iteland, in a tragic accident falling down the stairs over the family cat and going through the front window of the door at the bottom of the stairs.
I don't believe in God, or ghosts, but I do believe what my father told me happened that day.
Just saw this thread, went to tulleys farm on friday! Same scary experience for me!