Charlie Is Glowing
Stories
Shining Moments
Visions Of The Holy In Ordinary Lives
Deb Alexander
On the evening of September 26, 2003, I received a telephone call at about 10:15 p.m. from Allen, one of the partners in the company where I am employed. This is a small, family owned business, and having been there for thirteen years, I have been treated as extended family. Allen informed me that his father, who had been hospitalized for the past week, would probably not make it through the night.
I immediately packed and drove the two hours, praying all the way that God would keep Charlie with us long enough for me to say good-bye. I have always carried guilt that I was not with my own father when he passed. I arrived at the hospital in record time and was able to sit with Charlie for about twenty minutes by myself, then off and on, as his family came and went. At about 4 a.m. on Saturday, September 27, I went to my truck to get some medicine I needed to take. As I walked across the parking lot, I prayed to God to let Charlie pass quickly and peacefully, and, if it were possible, to let Blanche, his wife who had passed before him, come to take him home.
Charlie passed at 5:55 a.m. I remember standing with his sons and their wives or girlfriends, each of us with a hand on Charlie so he knew he wasn't alone. I remember trying to pray in my head, and I was frustrated and angry because I couldn't remember words that I had said so many times. Just after he passed, as his sons and their partners wrapped their arms around one another in a group to cry together, I stood at the foot of the bed. I thought one of the girls came to stand beside me. Then I heard a voice say, "Look, Charlie is glowing," and I looked. Charlie was surrounded by a beautiful, soft, white light, and his skin looked soft, white, and warm for a brief moment. Then the light went out. But as I looked around, no one else had moved from where they were, all wrapped in each other's arms, crying. I did not cry, and a peace came over me as I looked at what Charlie had left behind. I knew that it was Blanche's voice I had heard, that God had answered my prayer, and sent her to take Charlie home.
On the evening of September 26, 2003, I received a telephone call at about 10:15 p.m. from Allen, one of the partners in the company where I am employed. This is a small, family owned business, and having been there for thirteen years, I have been treated as extended family. Allen informed me that his father, who had been hospitalized for the past week, would probably not make it through the night.
I immediately packed and drove the two hours, praying all the way that God would keep Charlie with us long enough for me to say good-bye. I have always carried guilt that I was not with my own father when he passed. I arrived at the hospital in record time and was able to sit with Charlie for about twenty minutes by myself, then off and on, as his family came and went. At about 4 a.m. on Saturday, September 27, I went to my truck to get some medicine I needed to take. As I walked across the parking lot, I prayed to God to let Charlie pass quickly and peacefully, and, if it were possible, to let Blanche, his wife who had passed before him, come to take him home.
Charlie passed at 5:55 a.m. I remember standing with his sons and their wives or girlfriends, each of us with a hand on Charlie so he knew he wasn't alone. I remember trying to pray in my head, and I was frustrated and angry because I couldn't remember words that I had said so many times. Just after he passed, as his sons and their partners wrapped their arms around one another in a group to cry together, I stood at the foot of the bed. I thought one of the girls came to stand beside me. Then I heard a voice say, "Look, Charlie is glowing," and I looked. Charlie was surrounded by a beautiful, soft, white light, and his skin looked soft, white, and warm for a brief moment. Then the light went out. But as I looked around, no one else had moved from where they were, all wrapped in each other's arms, crying. I did not cry, and a peace came over me as I looked at what Charlie had left behind. I knew that it was Blanche's voice I had heard, that God had answered my prayer, and sent her to take Charlie home.
