Fallen Angels

No this post isn't about Halloween. I was over at Spo Reflections this morning reading his Scrooge Meme. One of the questions was "Have you ever been visited by a spirit?" It reminded me of an incident about 8 years ago. It wasn't a ghost per say but a presence. Let me give you some background.

Many years ago my very best friend of 16 years, gave me a wooden, handpainted, trumpeting angel. I hung it in a place of prominence in my kitchen, overlooking the whole of the kitchen/dining/living area of my trailer. I place one nail in the stud and since the space was triangular, I had to add other nails for it to rest on, to be at the proper angle. It hung there for years undisturbed. It never so much as even tilted.

On February 6th, at 8:20 in the morning, I was awaken by a thud, coming from the other end of the trailer. I roused myself to go see what it was. When I first walked into the kitchen from the hallway, everything seemed normal. I didn't notice anything that would have caused the noise. As I turned to walk back to the bedroom, I noticed something on the floor near the dining table. I bent down and picked it up. It was a piece of wood. I couldn't figure out where it would come from. I thought something had been thrown through the window at first, so I glanced under the table to find it. There was the angel my friend had given me, all those years ago, laying broken in three pieces, on the floor. I picked them up and studied the pieces, looked up at where it had hung on the wall and noticed every single nail was still in place. (They are still there too)

The angel's wing had broken off, a part of it's foot had too, as well as the top part of it's head, right through the eye. I turned it over in my hand and studied the back. The hanger was still intact. I couldn't figure out what would cause it to fall. I laid the pieces on the table and returned to bed. I would figure out how to repair it later.

The next morning I was at work. It was about 10:30am, when I received a phone call from my mother. She never calls me at work, so I knew something was wrong. In Monday's obituary, my oldest and dearest friend had past away Sunday at Hospice. I was devastated. I ask her to clip it for me and I would pick it up on my way home. I felt weak in the knees from the shock. I had just spent time with him at Christmas and he was doing fine. We had planned to get together in March to celebrate our birthdays together. (They are 8 days apart). I hung up the phone, and sat down. I was trying so hard not to cry. I did get teary eyed.


At lunch I sobbed like a baby on the shoulder of a friend at the back of the mall. I stopped and got the clipping from my parents. I could see the concern on their faces. They wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. My mother asked if I was okay, as I walked quickly to the door. I didn't want them to see me break down. I muttered something and got in to the car as fast as I could. I cried on the way home and over into the evening.

I went to the memorial service that Wednesday. I was seated toward the back of the little chapel in the funeral home. His parents were up front. I must say his mother was a strong woman to hold it together during the service. I sobbed out loud so, that some people glanced in my direction. After the place had cleared out some I approached his parents. We hugged and cried. She explained he lost his vision in one eye, and the use of one foot. It all happened so quickly. He had been asking for me. He wanted to see me one last time. They never got the chance to reach me before he was gone. He passed away Sunday morning at 8:20 am, the same time my angel fell.