My Daughter had viral induced asthma when she was little. One day when she was around four years old, she had a horrible flu. I stayed up holding her upright almost all night so that she could breathe easier. At one point she asked me if she was going to die! I assured her that she would make it. When the medication finally seemed to take effect, I propped her head up on some pillows, kissed her hot forehead, stood there looking at her amazed that my heart had the capacity to love someone so much, asked for angels to watch over her, then went to bed myself.
That morning, when she woke up, she was happy and feeling fine. The fever broke and she was breathing easy. While waking up, she asked me if my uncle was her uncle. I told her that my uncle was her great-uncle, and asked her if she was asking about Uncle Stas.
“No” she said, “the other one.”
“No, the other one.” Since all my other uncles were gone, and by now I was used to miracles, I asked her about my favorite of them.
“Are you talking about Uncle Johnny?”
“Yes! Uncle Johnny! Is he my uncle too?”
“Yes, yes he is your great uncle. Why are you asking me?”
“Well, because when he was here last night, he told me he was your uncle. He told me not to worry, that I wasn’t going to die.”
“Um… mom, is he dead?”
“Um, yes, his body has been dead for a while.”
“I knew it!”
“His spirit is as alive as we are.”
“I know, mom.”