by Catherine Graham

Created on: July 26, 2007

I am reminded every day that angels are real. They appear out of nowhere and go just as quickly, showing me the light at the end of every tunnel.

Many people believe that angels are to be only thought of as a beautiful creature with long flowing hair, surrounded by a glow with wings. When given this description, it can make it sound a bit unbelievable.

On the contrary, I have been shown angels, in many ways, in many different forms. They came when I was in a time of need and was desperate to know that I could and would get through the experience.

When I was sixteen years old, my father died of cancer. He and I had always been particularly close, and the loss was a devastation to me. I slipped into a depression, resenting the time that we had lost, angered by the words unsaid, and saddened by the times I knew would never be. Music had always been a constant connection between the two of us when he was still alive, and after his death, it was what kept me going through the darkest hours. It was in these darkest times, that I felt my father come to me, through music. When I was crying over whatever was happening in my life, a song would come onto the radio, and it would speak to me, as though it were really him there doing the talking. I mentioned this to my sisters and they admitted that they, too felt as though he were coming to them through music.
One particular song that held a great memory for me was Hotel California, by the Eagles. Whenever my dad had heard the song, he would start to sing it, and play the air guitar as if he were the lead singer of the band. The memory always brought a smile to my face. The day I went to pick up my wedding dress, I was feeling particularly low, as I thought of how my father would not be able to walk me down the aisle. As I sat in the parking lot, Hotel California came on the radio, and I felt at peace. Three times that day, the song played, and every time, I felt his presence beside me, telling me that everything would be okay, and that he was by my side.
This happens all of the time. When I feel at my lowest, I will hear the familiar picking of the guitar strings, as the song starts up. Each and everytime I am filled with an unspeakable peace, a warming. Strength and courage. He doesn't have wings, or a shining glow. He doesn't have long flowing hair, nor is he dressed in white. What he brings is so much better than an image someone has created. He brings me belief.

Another angel I met, was what I like to refer to as my Earth

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