Angel On Board - Guardian Angel 101

by Thornton, EJ

  Finally, we were back at Peter's house. Jeremi went to his room and collapsed on his bed, and stared blankly and was asleep again a few minutes later.

  I watched him and tried to figure out what I could do to make a difference. My lectures about drinking had fallen on deaf ears when I was alive.

  "They'd fall on deaf ears now, too, even if he could hear you." George had rejoined me and read my thoughts. We both watched over him.

  Soon after, Henry joined us, too. "Peter took him in, but he rarely sleeps here--he's usually at some after-hours party and then he sleeps the day away. Then he goes back to work in the pub and the pattern repeats itself. He avoids having any responsibilities to anyone or anything. So he's living an irresponsible lifestyle and nothing is challenging him."

  "Then he needs some responsibility! That'll help him grow up and straighten out." I sounded more like an angry father than a brand new angel.

  "There is a plan," George said, "that will hopefully get Jeremi back on the 'straight and narrow.' You figure very highly in the plan. We need to discuss it, to see if you're willing to take on the responsibilities to make it work."

  "What's the plan?" I was anxious to hear it. I'd do anything, if it would help Jeremi come back to the land of the living. "How can I help? What do I do?"

  "What Jeremi needs most of all is to get away from the angelless people who have been surrounding him. Then he needs to get back around his family and associate with other people who have their lives and minds focused on God, people who'll stand up to his faults and make him confront them and help him overcome them. It'll be hard. But God does have a plan; we just have to help Him carry it out."

  I nodded to George that I understood, then I looked back at Jeremi. "Could you help me get through to him now?"

  "Sleep is a special time," he said. "It's one of my favorite times. On special occasions, when we really need to communicate, we can visit them in their dreams. I enjoy doing it because it's really the only time we can converse outright. But it's such a vivid experience for them that we only do it occasionally. Too many interactions overwhelm them. But now might be a good time for you to go talk to Jeremi."

  "How do I visit him in his dream?"

  "First, set the stage: Whisper to him about a special, serene place you both like. Choose some place like the stream where you used to take him fishing, or his favorite mountain meadow or your old study where you both spent a lot of time--wherever is special to both of you. Then hold his hand and ask him to join you there. As soon as it takes over his dream, he'll be with you there. Then just talk. He'll have a million questions. Talk, you'll enjoy it." He motioned for me to begin.

  I sat on the bed next to Jeremi. I leaned over to whisper in his ear. I tried to think of the most beautiful place we had ever been together. I remembered the pristine beaches on the coast, near where we used to live. There was one special beach where we used to go when he was little. I wondered if he would remember.

  "Jeremi, it's me, Dad. I want to talk to you. Let's take a walk on the beach--remember that beach where we used to go clam-digging? I'll take your hand and take you there." I closed my eyes and remembered the most beautiful beach I'd ever seen. The waves pounded the massive rocks, the spray went up incredibly high and a fine, cool mist followed. The seagulls screeched in the background. When I opened my eyes, I was there and on the beach. Jeremi was very close to me, but still asleep. I went over to him and called his name. He stirred and woke.

  He noticed his surroundings before he saw me. He watched as a wave smashed against the nearby rock, then put his face up to catch the spray. When it did, he smiled. Then he saw me. He got up, rushed over to me and we embraced. "Dad!"

  "Jeremi, son, I love you. I want you to know I'm still here with you."

  "I love you, too, Dad. Are you dead?" Jeremi was understandably confused.

  "Yes, son, I am."

  "Am I?"

  "Relax, Jeremi, I've come to you in a dream. That's all" Good question, though. I had to appreciate how he might interpret this and help him stay calm. "You're just dreaming. I'm here to visit you. Do you remember this beach? We used to come here when you were little."

  "Oh yes, I loved coming here. The clams we got here were screamin'. I loved to watch the waves roll in. The power of it always put things in perspective for me. "

  I liked this Jeremi. This was Jeremi - his spirit, in its true form. George was right, this was very special.

  Jeremi's reflective mood turned mournful. "Dad, what am I going to do without you? I already miss you so much."

  "At first, I tried to fight it, son, but I had to go. It was my time to go and there's nothing wrong with that. The only hard part about this whole thing is how much it hurts my family and friends. If they only knew how close I really am, I think they'd feel a little better. Sheila and I painted a sunrise this morning for your Mama, then I held her as we both admired it. She could feel I was there with her, I know she could."

  "How is Sheila? I miss her so much. Is she here on this beach with us? Can she be?"

  "This is just us. Sheila's doing great. She's more beautiful than any angel I ever imagined when I was alive. It's wonderful to be with her again." We walked along the beach. "Jeremi, I'm worried about you."

  "I know, Dad. I know." He sighed. "It's just hard, you know."

  "What is so hard for you?"

  "Going on. Living from day to day. Finding a reason. I was so messed up when Sheila died, I lost so much time I could've spent with her. I'll never forgive myself for screwing up so badly. I watched her suffer, and then I got drunk to forget. I tried to drown the pain. I wasted so much time trying to deny how sick she was. I left just when she needed me most. I let her down, Dad. Then I let my wife down and she left, then I know I let you and Mama down. It's just easier to hide than to face any of that. Now you're gone and I wasted that time with you." We sat down on the beach and he held his head in his hands again and cried.

  "Jeremi. I love you, son," I said softly. "I love you!" I reiterated. "Sheila loves you, too. She knows how hard her illness was on everyone and especially for you, her 'big brother.' You had to come face to face with a lot of hard realities. But you've got to face them. If you run from them, you'll run forever. Love is all about forgiveness. I know she knows how you feel. She can see you and she can hear you. But you and I both know she'd wear you out if you used her death as your excuse to stay drunk all the time. You need to face your problems. Turn to God. Go back to church. Ask for help. Jeremi, you're such a wonderful person, but you're drinking your life, your talents, and your dreams away."

  "I told you, it's so hard." He sighed again.

  "It's harder to live with a life of wasted dreams than of wasted time. You remember that. I'll always be with you. I'll give you a sign only you'll know. When you need someone who loves you, unconditionally, I'll let you know I'm there. I'll make sure Sheila will too, okay?" He nodded. "I'll leave you with this: If you try hard to get better, I promise you I'll be there with you every step of the way. You can do it. Focus on how to live, try to enjoy feeling alive again. Will you do that, for me, for your sister, for Mama?"

  "Dad, I hope we can meet again like this soon."

  "Me, too." I held him again, kissed him on the forehead, "I love you." I closed my eyes and we were back in his room and Jeremi in his bed.

  Henry and George waited for us. "Was it nice?" George asked.

  "Very nice," I said. "Can I do this very often or do we have to save it for special need occasions?"

  "We can do it as often as we think they can handle it," Henry explained. "Both fortunately and unfortunately, it is such a vivid experience they remember every detail of it. But it also frightens them because they're afraid they're crazy. After all, they're talking to a dead person. Just watch what happens when he wakes up now. Then watch the drama when he tells someone about it."

  Jeremi rolled over and woke up, startled. "Huh?" He shook his head, tried to wake himself up further, then realized he st
ill had a hangover. "Ow, ow, ow." He sat up in bed, enough to lean up against the headboard. Frightened, breathing rapidly and definitely still disoriented, he pulled the covers up around him and stared out into space. "Whoa, what a trip!"

  "I see," I said to George sadly.

  "That's one of the reasons. It's a very traumatic experience. I wish it was easier for them."

  "Me, too."

  Jeremi decided he needed to get up and pack for the trip.

  "Okay, Martin. It's time to let their angels watch over them for a while. We've got some important things to discuss. Let's go." He looked me in the eyes and they locked. When they unlocked, we were back in the garden in Heaven.

  Chapter 5

  "What do you want to discuss?" I asked him.

  "Your future. What do you want to do, now that you're here? You have a lot of choices and a lot of decisions to make."

  "Decisions?"

  "When you were alive, you served God, right?" I nodded. "You're an angel now. Do you want to still serve God?"

  "Of course I do!"

  "Then you need to learn the capacities in which you now can do that. That's what we're here to discuss." He paused. "There are all kinds of angels, Martin. There are the kind who live in Heaven and only venture out when the Lord sends them on special assignments; they stay here and serve God and the other angels in many ways until they are called. They go visit their families when they want, but with very little interaction. But a great and glorious honor goes to those who choose and are chosen to be Guardian Angels. When you agree to become a Guardian, you are a teacher, a protector, a guide and a major influence in your charge's life. It's a tough job, but it is rewarding beyond words. Guardians usually choose to guard someone special in their families, although there are rules governing certain circumstances."

  "Rules?"

  "First of all, males guard males and females guard females. There are several reasons for that rule, but the main one is that it's better for male angels to guard male humans. They understand their minds better."

  "Okay." That rule was easy to understand.

  "Secondly, you're encouraged to go back to your family, to the next child born in your family. You usually choose that anyway because you're closer to all the members of your family and that helps you with this transition as well."

  "Sounds right."

  "If there are special circumstances, then you can take the place of an angel who's already been assigned. When the mother of a young child dies, if she has been faithful, she is rewarded with the choice of becoming a Guardian Angel for her own child; she can take the place of the angel charged with the child. Both angels will stay until the mother angel is confident in her new role. Most mothers choose this; fathers, too. If the mother only has boys, then she can only assist the other angels. The parent who can will usually choose the youngest because the older children feel the same need to watch over the little ones. They all work together, just in different ways."

  "Is that what Sheila did?" I asked.

  "Yes, she's still assisting the baby's angel. So she's more free to float for the moment, but soon she'll take her place and the baby's angel will be given a new charge to guard."

  "What about me, then?" All my children, at least my boys, were grown. "If I were to become a Guardian Angel, who would be my charge? Do you know?"

  He nodded. "If you agree, that is."

  "Who?"

  "Your grandson," he replied.

  "Which grandson?" I asked. I had more than one.

  "The one that will be born in about nine months!"

  My heart leaped for joy; a new baby, how wonderful. "Whose baby will he be?"

  "Jeremi's."

  "Wait a minute! Stop right there. He's single and you know he's in a lot of trouble. What are you thinking? Besides, you know he tried to have babies with his ex-wife, but they never did. She already had a son. That means Jeremi was the one with the problem having kids."

  "There're several things going on here, Martin. First, all things are possible. Second, Jeremi's just fine in this regard. It was his wife's problem. After her son was born, there was an injury. We made sure she just never knew about it."

  "Oh brother, he thinks it's his problem. That's going to spell T-R-O-U-B-L-E." I shook my head in disbelief. "Will he get back with his ex-wife?" I asked, still trying to recover from the shock.

  "No. It's much more complicated than that," George continued. "Jeremi is having a lot of problems. He's lost his focus on anything and everything. He's just floundering around in life. He's going down into a hole and unless something is done to save him, we're all going to lose him. You saw how tired Henry was. Jeremi's lost to Henry. But your faithful Father in Heaven has listened to yours, Glory's, Peter's, and his sister's prayers and is answering them by giving Jeremi a son. A beautiful son, who will be talented and gifted. Someone Jeremi, hopefully, will want to turn his life around for."

  "How's he supposed to support a baby? He's living with Peter! He works at a pub. Have we really considered all this?"

  "Selecting the baby's mother was done carefully. She needs to be strong enough to stand up to Jeremi's faults. Also compassionate enough to see how special he is, even though he's tried to hide it from the world. Vulnerable enough that he feels the desire to take care of her. She has to be someone who's already established herself as a faithful, diligent and responsible mother. Someone who can take care of the baby in a good home with or without Jeremi present. Someone who will accept the baby unconditionally, love him forever and also be of good enough heart to share him with your family, regardless of Jeremi's commitment to her."

  "Have you found someone like that? That seems like a pretty tall order to fill."

  "Jeremi has."

  "He found her? Who is she?"

  "Her name is Jeannie. She's the mother of two young, beautiful girls. One is five. The little one is two. She's in the process of ending a lonely marriage. All she wants to do is continue to be able to provide for her girls. She's a very devoted mother."

  "How did they meet?"

  "At the pub where Jeremi works, she and he karaoke together."

  "They met at the pub? Yikes, was that such a good idea?"

  "She had to meet him where he was - he's always in a bar." George knew what I thought. Unfortunately, I had to agree with him on that score.

  I inquired further about this Jeannie. "Is she a singer?" Jeremi sang professionally, years before, but the band had split up. He still kept himself near music as much as he could, though.

  "She sings well - but she needs to keep her day job! Jeremi and Peter have the gift but Jeannie uses singing as therapy to help her through the hard times in her life. She sings the songs for the way she feels. It's an emotional release and also a temporary phase. She'll only be in the bar scene for a little while. But she's there long enough to meet and get involved with Jeremi."

  "Is she . . .?" I stumbled for the right word.

  "Black?"

  "No. I was going to ask if she was spiritual."

  "Of course," he answered.

  "But since you brought it up. Is she?" He'd aroused my curiosity.

  "She's white." He paused. I must've looked a little shocked. "Is that a problem?"

  "You should know better than to ask me that! But there're so many more issues in an interracial relationship. Are they ready to handle that, too?"

  "You're right, Martin. But they've already learned those lessons in life. You raised your kids right and so did Jeannie's folks. Jeannie and Jeremi both have an innate ability to look beyond skin color, to meet the person on the other side. To them, it's just plain natural."

  My eyes sought out his and I stared at them intently. The warmth and sincerity in them assured me more than words ever could have.

  "Would you like to meet her?" George asked.

  "Absolutely."

  The next moment, we were in an office with three women, all diligently pounding away on their computer keyboards. The first one was ver
y serious and straight-laced, everything on her desk was in a neat little pile. Jeremi liked things orderly. Even still... I could tell the next one loved music. There were musical knickknack's everywhere there was room on her desk, sprinkled in between several heaps that once were piles. There were pictures of grown children on her desk, a boy and a girl, however George described little girls. Then there was the third woman in the room. All around her were pictures of little girls and kindergarten-style artwork. Tacked in between were inspirational quotes, which apparently reminded her to be positive about life and to take control of her own situation. She positioned herself to face the other two ladies in the room. I watched her for a little while.

  "I see you found her, Martin." George told me.

  After a couple seconds, Jeannie looked up from her computer and looked around for something.

  "She's pretty sensitive to us," a woman's voice came from behind me.

  "George, this is Pearl. She's Jeannie's guardian." Pearl was very strong and vibrant.

  "I'm glad to meet you. Do I know you?" I asked because there was something very familiar about her.

  "You've only known me through George. He talked about Jeannie and me to you when you were alive. You only know us through those talks," Pearl explained.

  "Does Jeannie know we're here?"

  "She's very sensitive to what she thinks are changes in energy. She's tried to reason it out in her mind, but she has trouble overcoming the lack of a logical explanation. She's a computer programmer and things need to make logical sense for her. So she denies what she's experiencing. She's getting wiser, but she's a little scared."

  Jeannie went back to work on the computer. Obviously intent on her objective, it looked like she could tune everything out if she wanted to. I wanted to see what she was working on, so I went behind her and looked over her shoulder. Jeannie stopped working and got chill bumps.