When my uncle died of a massive heart attack while driving this past weekend, one of his sons, who was in the passenger seat, said it was as if someone helped him put his foot on the brake and steer the car to safely at the side of the road.
John said that all at once, a very large, strong man ran over to help pull my uncle off John's lap and out of the car. Then two young men rushed over and said they knew CPR. A nurse came out of a nearby car, and said she would look after my uncle while John called an ambulance.
Uncle George died at the hospital. John said everyone around was so kind and generous that he knew this was all meant to be. For two weeks before this event, John felt uncharacteristically called to be with his Dad. He went over to his house regularly, played cards, and helped him clean up his house. As he did so, John uncovered old photos and they talked about each one.
"You were all there with us," John said, pointing to all the family that were now listening to his tale.
"Dad and I talked about his favorite memories and laughed about how, when my brothers and I were younger, we played practical jokes on him." John said, "The whole time, I just knew I was supposed to be there. I felt called"
Then he pointed to all of us again, his finger making the rounds toward each person's heart: "If you ever feel a strong desire to visit someone or do something, don't ignore it. Do whatever it tells you. Now I know. It's Spirit calling."