Debbie's Family
My grandfather, Lloyd, as we lovingly called him, was always interested in his grandchildren, what they were doing and their well being. So when my cousin Tim was in a serious car accident in 1978, I was not surprised to see Lloyd marching into talk with the doctors that were examining Tim. Lloyd was not in there too long, when he came out smiling and motioned to me thumbs up, and then he left. Tim did recover after many months in a coma and many years of therapy that still goes on today. The amazing part is that Lloyd passed away in November of 1971. My son Bob was a very happy 3 year old. He loved to slide on slides. When McDonald's opened a play land I was more than happy to take him there to ride on the ten-foot tall slide. I don’t know how many times that day he climbed the stairs and slid down the slide. It became time to go and I told him he could have one more slide. He climbed the stairs one last time, the next thing I saw was a small body falling to the floor from the top of the slide. Sickly, I realized that it was Bob. He was rushed to the ER were they wanted to keep him for a few days. They diagnosed him as a brain trauma. His face was so swollen and miss happened and his eye was black and blue and swollen shut. I spent every moment with him, afraid that this would be our last moment together. Finally the nurse told me to go for a while so that Bob could rest. I left to get some lunch. We I came back Bob was awake and seemed so happy. He immediately told me that his “Poppy” had been there. I knew that my father in law was at work and explained it to him thinking he must have seen someone that resembled his “Poppy”. But Bob told me that it was not that “Poppy” that it was my “Poppy”. I explained to him that my “Poppy” was in heaven. My father had died 18 months before Bob’s fall. Bob was adamant that it was my “Poppy”. That he had come to visit with a man with a beard who was wearing a long white robe. “Poppy” had shown Bob the birdie on his arm; my father had a tattoo of an American eagle that Bob loved to trace. My father said to Bob that he would be all right and I am happy to say that Bob is 26 and doing well. One last thing the night before my father died, he told me that he would always be there for Bob and that he wished he could see Bob grow up. The next day my Father died of a massive heart attack.
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