It was a night that will be burned into my
memory for as long as I may be blessed with a mind able to
recall memories. The rain was coming down in torrents. I had
just left my job as a nurse at the only nursing home in
our small town. I worked the three to eleven shift.
That night I was held up at work, I remained after my shift
ended, because a very special and dear lady in my care was
deep into a coma. The doctors had called what remaining family
was left to tell them that poor Hannah was in a coma, and it
was just a matter of a few hours at best, before Hannah would
expire. Hannah's family had ignored her the four years that
she was in our care. Hannah and I became close friends. She was to
me the grandmother that I had lost as a small child. Tonight I
sat and held Hannah's hand as she struggled to hang on to her
thinning thread of life. As I whispered into Hannah's ear,
I soothed her struggling fears. She refused to lapse into the
deep sleep a coma induces most patients into.
It was already two hours since the end of my shift. I had
my own dad, who was physically disabled, still living with me
and depending on me for his nightly medication, I whispered to
Hannah that I could stay no longer. I kissed her cheek and
whispered a last farewell. I knew that tomorrow, when I came
into her room there would be another kind soul waiting for
love and care.
As I approached the parking lot, my heart was heavy. Hannah
was so dear to me and I knew by tomorrow's sunrise, Hannah
would be in a better place.
The weather was getting worse by the minute. Not only was
it raining like the whole heavens had opened up, there was a
heavy fog that had already rolled in. I knew the forty minute
drive was going to add to my already stressed emotions.
As I peered from the window trying desperately to keep on
my side of the road. I was crawling along at a dangerous
speed. I was approaching the railroad tracks. As I started to
cross them, seemingly out of nowhere a train was coming from
around the bend. To my horror the gates dropped, trapping me
on the tracks with the gates dropped both before me and behind
me. As I sat in terror, watching the train lights coming
closer. The passenger door opened, and the gate before
me lifted. Then the car door slammed shut with a click of the
lock. I heard a clear whisper in my ear saying "go
now girl!". My car flew through as if propelled by some
strange force. Did I have my foot on the gas, to break through
the gate? I don't think so. My mind was spinning. I looked at
the clock. Dad's medication was due at 1:30 and it was now
1:20. I was always in the habit of looking at clocks, because
it seemed my life was too busy to waste even a minute.
After taking care of Dad's needs, I tried clearing my mind
of the evening's happenings by going to bed. I fell into such
a deep sleep, the morning came too soon.
The next afternoon, as I was driving to work, the first thing that drew my attention was two hand prints on the
passenger's side of the car. They were on the inside of
the window. NO ONE but me is ever in my car. I have no riders,
and Dad only travels in my brother's van which is equipped
with a wheelchair lift. As I drove along, I kept looking over
at the handprints on the window. How strange that they gave
me such a feeling of peace and serenity.
When I reach my floor, my friend and co-worker Caroline
told me that Hannah had passed away at 1:19. She never moved or opened her eyes, yet the doctor and the nurse both swear that they heard Hannah whisper "go now girl!".
I'm sure my angel Hannah hung on because, in some way, she
knew I was heading for danger and wanted to be sure that she
would care for me as I did for her. That night Hannah was My Angel of Mercy.
submitted: by Jenna Mitchoffer