A week before my 22nd birthday, my father passed away and my world was shattered. But he showed 'signs' of knowing with a desperation to travel to my place in Dallas from Denver for a visit that turned out to be his last.
Seen in this picture is my great grandpa Jarman and my Dad, Norvette Brown. I've included below an excerpt from the story I wrote about this experience.
...Dad had mentioned that he had something important to give to me and wanted to drive down and hand it to me personally. Gladly, I accepted the invitation not knowing much about the condition of his diabetes. His conversation was puzzling as he told me that lately he had been dreaming of little children happily dancing around him. He wanted to talk about a newfound peace that he was experiencing with a burst of life energy allowing for this trip.
In a futile attempt to stop him from driving, I told him that if he didn't feel up to it, I would gladly pay for a bus ticket instead...he refused. His main objective was to drive down so that he could 'see things', so I respected his wishes. That next day as I anxiously waited for a call from Dad, I received a call from a Sheriff in a county line town in Colorado.
The Sheriff showed much concern for my Dad's state of mind as he began explaining that my Dad was disoriented thinking that he was in Texas on his way to visit me. He also told me that they were holding him at the jail because legally he could not drive because his license stated that he was legally blind (due to the diabetes). The anxiety was beginning to show in my voice because I was puzzled as to why my Dad would knowingly break the law...why didn't he take the bus like I had offered?
Not knowing these facts about his failing health, the Sheriff continued stating Dad was lucky to be alive because he had been in a car accident with an 18-wheeler that ran him off the wrong side of the road. Apparently, he had made it as far as New Mexico and out of confusion, he made a turn that sent him back into the direction of Colorado! What kind of quest was Dad going on and why was he not thinking in his right mind?
Surprisingly, the Sheriff agreed to put my Dad on the next bus to Dallas with nothing more than one Panasonic home stereo system with full sized speakers. The next morning at the bus station, I welcomed my nervous, yet excited father from his exhausting ordeal. When we made it to my apartment, Dad seemed antsy and uncomfortable...he had left all of his belongings in his wrecked station wagon (clothing and insulin) so he showered and temporarily wore a robe of mine and I chuckled at the thought of him not even caring he was wearing his daughter's silken, silver bath garment.
That night, he refused to sleep, staring in the distance, rocking back and forth on the couch and knowing he was tired I noticed the condition of his swollen feet...I had never seen gangrene before.
After finally falling asleep on the couch, I slowly crept over to my Dad who was breathing soundly in a deep sleep but I couldn't wake him. When I called the ambulance and told him he was a diabetic, their response was that he was in a diabetic coma, their arrival was immediate and they gave him insulin that he hadn't had since the accident. He responded favorably at the hospital so I decided to go into work. Before I could leave work for the evening, the hospital called and said he had passed away due to complications.
After everything was said and done, I began to analyze chronologically all that initially I couldn't understand before. My Dad's trip was not a visit, it was an appearance of a delusion that overtook his thought process. He knew his time was limited and he ignored the odds and gave it to God. My Dad shouldn't have survived that accident, and he must have met the only Sheriff (which for some reason I never took the information down for this guardian angel) that had the compassion to put a strange man on a bus, no cost to me, towards a destination hundreds of miles away, at the request of someone he didn't even know except through a conversation the phone. I quickly found this type of divine intervention would become the norm in a series of life experiences destined for my future. I believe under God's favor, he gives us a 'grace' period and how merciful is that?
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