"Mr. Mason! Mr. Mason! Stay with us...don't leave us! It's Christmas Eve and your family needs you!" My father was close to death at this point, having been brought into the emergency room with a possible heart attack. The staff at the hospital were frantically working over him, trying to save his life, calling out to him the whole time, trying to keep him alert and alive.
Dad would open his eyes every now and then and was so confused. He was seeing angels....bright white and silver angels...Heaven! He must be in Heaven! But these heavenly angels were not singing nor were they letting him find the rest he was longing for. They were yelling at him, sticking him with needles, and rest was not on the agenda. The emergency room staff had decided to brighten things up a bit since they had to work Christmas Eve and had chosen to dress up. Dad's hardworking nurses were angels, down to the tinsel circlets on their heads.
The Lord spared him that night, just for another 2 months, but we loved hearing how he looked up into the bright light and saw such wonderfully kind faces shining down on him. Angels there to comfort him and ease his fear and pain, and to reassure Him of God's great love for him. He told that story over and over for the next two months, and when he passed away in February, we knew he was seeing real angels this time.
I don't know why but I will always remember you telling me about your dad celebrating Elvis day. I always think of that in January ever since you told me.
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