How Do I Know It Was An Angel? I Felt It. True Story
"When angels visit us, we do not hear the rustle of wings, nor feel the feathery touch of the breast of a dove; but we know their presence by the love they create in our hearts." ~Mary Baker Eddy
Although I have written ANGEL LADY, our film about a glitch on a TV that may or may ot be a Angel, and hosted for almost five years the HOW TO CONNECT WITH ANGELS podcast, I personally have never encountered one.
Until last Saturday around 2:45 pm CST.
What happened was, I fainted while out for a stroll in my neighborhood of New Orleans, and hit my head on the brick sidewalk. Fortunately, I was already out before my skull thumped the hard red clay, so it wasn’t all that painful.
I was gone. My dear friend Marilyn, visiting from Philly, was calling to me repeatedly, “Sheri, come back…” But I wasn’t answering because I was otherworldly engaged with an Angel. And let me assure you, it was not the result of a brain bleed or cracked skull. The scans they gave me later, showed absolutely no damage. Nope.
How to convey the incredibly magnificent encompassing presence of love that emanated from the Light? I felt a femaleness; she softly exuded ecstatic joy, as she communicated… her unconditional, enormous love. I don’t remember any words; I can only recall how I felt, hence the quote above, from Mary Baker Eddy.
It took a full minute and a half for me to surface to consciousness. I was following my friend’s voice as I tunneled up, as she called to me repeatedly, softly, but urgently. Finally I opened my eyes and looked up at her with an expression of clear bliss and whispered, “Thank you.”
Fortunately my dear pal Marilyn is no stranger to the world of Spirit. She could sense from my halting, breathy description that I had glimpsed the other side of the veil. Where all there was and all there is, is Love.
With Marilyn’s help, I managed to get to a sitting position, braced against a house, followed by an episode of violent upchucking that signaled to me, thanks to my medical expertise from TV medical shows, and the occasional Saints football game, that puking could mean a bad concussion. So, we called my husband Dan, to come around the corner with the car and collect me to go to the ER. Fortunately, Touro Hospital is eight minutes away. Unfortunately, I could get into our Mini Cooper for the ride, but could not arrange my limbs to climb out at the ER. Dan and another guy in a uniform pulled me onto a wheelchair.
Amazingly, perhaps because I’d had my meet with an Angel, I arrived in pretty good spirits, able to remember my social and birthdate for the signing in. As Dan ducked out to move our car for arriving ambulances, I was rolled into a ER bay, by a spiffy-looking male nurse. He was taking my vitals, remarking that my blood pressure was crazy high. I was also having problems breathing, as I kept forgetting that I needed air, and my hands and feet were tingling. So, a lovely young blonde nurse had her hands on my shoulders and her face so close, all I could see was her eyes, crystal blue. She was commanding me to breathe, “Into your nose and out through your mouth,” with the a kind of loving sternness.
I willed myself to draw in the air to my stomach, to then connect to the ground, to grab a toehold on reality. I remember thinking, “Okay, this will keep you alive. This will work.” But I kept drifting off to peer through the door that had opened to the Other Side. I did not want to lose sight of that bright peace.
I sensed I could be slipping away. My beloved Dan was gripping my hand as hard as he dared, as I needed him to keep me tethered to this plane. As we waited for them to locate a room for me, I was able to tell him about my angelic experience. And that reassured him, that this wasn’t simply some near-awful incident; there was some Divinity to it, some Grace. I told Dan that perhaps this was the reason I’d been knocked out; that here we were, looking to make this movie called "ANGEL LADY", and now I knew they were for real. Certainly I believed the accounts of other people’s encounters and amazing Earth Angels had saved my bacon throughout my life, but I never expected to experience this piece of it.
It’s a very very weird trip that a mind takes, when you fear you are dying. All I could think to say to my partner of 25+ years was that I was very sorry. Tearfully, I apologized at the prospect of leaving him so unexpectedly. We were looking forward to having some friends for dinner the next week, after months of isolation. That, plus making our movie, traveling to Paris, all that bucket list stuff, that was about to be nixed. I couldn’t think of deserting my beloved Sophie Elza, or I would break into pieces.
So, I gasped for breath and apologized for dying, and my dear Dan, what did he do? He wasn’t having any of that.
“You’re not going to die.”
“No. No, you are not.”
“Oh. Okay.” I relaxed a little, then a lot more as the IV pumped relaxants into my system.
You might be wondering how in hell I got myself into such a pickle. Now that the spiritual benefits of this adventure have been established -add to that the delight of appreciating life acutely - I can tell you about my ocular migraine.
The good news, is that this version of a migraine does not levy pain so excruciating that you want to lock yourself in a closet and hang yourself. When I am in the throes of the ocular migraine and a gyrating kaleidoscope that once was my eyesight whirls the landscape, it causes dizziness and nausea. As this was only my third occurrence in the last 10 years, I was not paying attention to the onset. I was already out in the hot New Orleans sun, headed for a foot tour of the Garden District. This was something Marilyn and I loved to do when she lived in our great wacky city. It had been a while and here she was, so I was determinedly oblivious to the migraine signals.
Like all other migraines, the ocular version is brought on by extreme stress. Even if it’s all great stuff, if it’s over the top…That morning, I’d done my yoga and errands and some pressing social media posting plus a couple hours with Dan on the movie. And, per usual for New Orleans in June, as we set out to walk, it was in the high 80’s, with high 90’s humidity.
Plus, I was stoned. I hope you might not get judgey about this part of it, but people do what they do. I can promise you, that I have learned my lesson. That will be the last time I smoke pot out of a hand-blown giraffe-shaped six-inch glass bong! Besides the fact that the illicit item is now back up in Philly, I also now understand that certain delivery systems are just NOT for me! (And no, it was not psychedelic-laced grass that brought on the experience. It was run-of-the-mill.)
They eventually found me a room up on the cancer floor, and poured me into bed. Despite the heart monitor and the other gadgets, I slept through to 6:30 am the next morning. Amazingly, I awoke feeling pretty good! My head only hurt when I touched the fist-sized bruise. All my labs came back peachy, so they decided I could leave. As you might know, leaving the hospital takes hours and hours, but I was not gonna bitch about it. No way.
The staff was wonderful, the food was not terrible, and I got a chance to feel the presence of an angel, hug my life, and figure a way to share this with you.
We are loved with such fierceness and beauty, y’all.
Onward with more calm and Angels,
June 5, 2021
Stay tuned on this free and fun webinar we're planning!
"Claiming your Marathon - Your Impossible Dream."
If you read my blog, you'll see some of the strategies we will discuss with guests:
- Marathoner Dr. Dean Goodman (still running distance in his 70's)
- Angel Lady film director Edgar Pablos
- Activist artist Daneeta Jackson of Planet Daneeta
- Triathlete, veteran, cancer champion, and health innovator Clayton Treska
- Plus more!
If you'd like to be kept in the loop and reserve a free place, email me your interest - firstname.lastname@example.org.
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