My mother’s angels are on the eighth floor of the Palmetto Baptist Hospital. This floor with many rooms hosts people who suffer from cancers or other diseases that attack their bodies cell by cell.
The first angel she met, Walter from transport, we called him, sang “Tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1999” to her as he rolled her to her room on her first visit. There is singing in heaven.
Her angels floated in and out of her room around the clock. They shared life stories and laughed with my mother. There is joy and laughter in heaven.
One angel sent my mother home between visits with prepared divine meals. Heaven is a sweet place.
Another angel came from nowhere in the middle of the night, held my mother’s hand and shook the rafters with “Amazing Grace.” There is continuous worshiping in heaven.
When her pain was the greatest, the comfort, peace, faith and hope that the angels shared with her could only have come from our heavenly Father. Her angels reflected the true love that she finally found in heaven on July 16, her four children and Walter from transport by her side.
Thank you, sweet angels, for the joyful time my mother spent with you on the eighth floor, and for the loving care you provided her all along the way.