Amy Newmark - Chicken Soup for the Soul: Messages from Heaven and Other Miracles

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Messages from Heaven and Other Miracles

101 Stories of Angels, Answered Prayers and Love That Doesnt Die

Amy Newmark

Published by Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC www.chickensoup.com

Copyright 2019 by Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

CSS, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and its Logo and Marks are trademarks of Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC.

The publisher gratefully acknowledges the many publishers and individuals who granted Chicken Soup for the Soul permission to reprint the cited material.

Front cover image of rainbow courtesy of iStockphoto.com/rakoptonLPN (rakoptonLPN)

Front cover image of tree courtesy of iStockphoto.com/Zerbor (Zerbor)

Back cover and Interior photo artwork courtesy of iStockphoto.com/baona (baona)

Photo of Amy Newmark courtesy of Susan Morrow at SwickPix

Cover and Interior by Daniel Zaccari

Distributed to the booktrade by Simon & Schuster. SAN: 200-2442

Publishers Cataloging-In-Publication Data

(Prepared by The Donohue Group, Inc.)

Names: Newmark, Amy, compiler.

Title: Chicken soup for the soul : messages from heaven and other miracles : 101 stories of angels, answered prayers and love that doesnt die / [compiled by] Amy Newmark.

Other Titles: Messages from heaven and other miracles : 101 stories of angels, answered prayers and love that doesnt die

Description: [Cos Cob, Connecticut] : Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC, [2019]

Identifiers: ISBN 9781611599855 | ISBN 9781611592856 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Miracles--Literary collections. | Miracles--Anecdotes. | Angels--Literary collections. | Angels--Anecdotes. | Prayers--Literary collections. | Prayers--Anecdotes. | LCGFT: Anecdotes.

Classification: LCC BL487 .C453 2019 (print) | LCC BL487 (ebook) | DDC 202.117/02--dc23

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018960683

Changing the world one story at a time

www.chickensoup.com

No language can express the power and beauty and heroism of a mothers love.

~Edwin Chapin

P utting the blood-pressure cuff back in the metal basket on the wall, I looked down at my patient. I brushed some hair back from her forehead and watched her still figure. Julie, it looks to me like youre leaving us tonight. Im going to step out of the room and call your family, but Ill be right back.

The fluorescent glare of the hall lights assaulted me as I left her dimly lit hospital room. She was directly across from the nurses station, a spot we reserved for our sickest patients. I stepped quietly behind the desk and pulled out her chart to locate her emergency contact numbers. As charge nurse of the oncology floor, I had assigned Julie to myself this evening, even though I suspected I was assigning myself a broken heart.

Hi, David, its Linda at the hospital.

Hows Julie? Is she okay?

Listening to the panic in her husbands voice, I tucked away my own emotion for now. David, shes resting comfortably, but I think you should come. I just checked on her, and I dont think shes going to be with us much longer.

After reassuring David a few more times that Julie was not suffering, and making sure he wasnt driving alone to the hospital, I returned to her room as promised. The months of treatment had made her frail. She looked like a child lying there rather than a woman my age. I thought about my toddler and preschooler at home. They were probably splashing every inch of the bathroom at that moment, soaking our dog and their daddy as he attempted to give them a bath. I missed some precious moments when I was at work, but I had the next couple of days off. I would be with my children tomorrow. Julie was not likely to see her toddler and preschooler tomorrow or ever again.

Pulling a chair up to her bedside, I took a seat and held her hand. Its Linda. Im back, and David is on his way.

Julie couldnt open her eyes or speak, but as long as her heart was beating, she could listen. Your first hospital admission seems like yesterday, but I guess it was six months ago now. When I saw your diagnosis of lung cancer, well, I dont want to say I blamed you, but there was a certain reassurance there. I thought smoking was where we differed. When you told me you had never smoked, I was so angry. I wanted desperately to blame someone or something for what was happening to you. You, though, handled it with grace and peace.

As I teetered on the edge of losing a friend rather than a patient, the door burst open. David was in the lead followed by parents, in-laws, aunts and uncles. When young people die, it is a very different situation than it is for elderly patients. They have not outlived any of the people who love them.

Standing, I steered David toward the chair. Just talk to her and hold her hand. Let her know youre here, I said softly.

Rounding the foot of the bed, I guided her relatives out of my way until I was standing directly opposite from David. I picked up Julies other hand, but held it by the wrist. Now that she had her family with her, I resumed my role as nurse. My hand-holding was pulse-checking in disguise.

Soft sobs and murmured voices filled the room, but for the most part, I only heard Julies breathing. She was having long periods of apnea, meaning she just didnt breathe at times. As one of those periods of apnea lengthened, I could no longer feel her thready pulse in the hand I continued to hold. Instead of whipping out my stethoscope to listen for a heartbeat, I stayed still. I glanced at my watch to note a probable time of death, but otherwise remained where I was. I had no desire to rush David or his family into this new reality life without Julie. Besides, they would notice soon enough.

Her erratic breathing gradually quieted the room. All eyes and hearts were fixated on her, watching this young woman slip away. Finally, her mother asked, Is she

Before the question could be completed, Julie gasped for air. Letting go of her hand briefly, I repositioned my index finger on her wrist, searching for and finding a pulse. This time, though, it was stronger. As her breathing became regular once more, there was a collective sigh in the room. By the end of my shift, her condition was stable, and most of her relatives had returned home.

My two days off passed at the speed of light, and I was soon back at the nurses station. Just as I arrived, Julie had one of our aides roll her wheelchair over to me. While she normally appeared fragile, her body ravaged equally by the disease and the treatment, she glowed that day. Her smile and her spirit had not been dimmed by her physical struggle.

Linda, they said you were coming back today, and I was hoping to see you. Ive been discharged! David has gone to pull the car around.

Oh, Julie, Im so happy youre going home, I said. And I want to apologize for scaring David and your entire family the other night. Its just that I really thought