Divorce caught me totally by surprise, as did my reaction to being single after sixteen-years. I didn’t want to be divorced but my husband did, and after three years of fighting for him and hoping we would find a way to reconcile, in the end, he just didn’t want to stay. I knew I had to be emotionally available for our two young children so I buried my own feelings of desperation and loneliness and avoided any attempt by friends or family to “talk about it.” I was naturally gregarious, energetic and “in charge” all my life; now, it felt like I was pinned to a mat and the referee was ready to call the match. I had been going to therapy on and off during our one-year marital separation, but now that divorce was eminent, I knew if I didn’t return, I would lose myself forever.

I took life day-by-day, but week-by-week my positive intentions were diminishing to thoughts of hopelessness and fear. I lied to friends, my family, even my therapist when they asked how I was doing. I said I was busy volunteering at school, consulting for Internet companies, and journaling. The truth was, the consulting work was drying up and I lacked the energy to volunteer, so as soon as I dropped the kids off at school, I came home, went back to bed, and didn’t wake up until it was time to pick them up again.

Even though I slept nearly 17 hours a day, I was exhausted all the time. I knew it was depression, but I convinced myself that sleep was healing and tried not to feel guilty about it. In my fragile state of mind, I broke every rule Dr. Spock, guru of child rearing, wrote, including letting my children sleep in bed with me. It’s hard to admit, but I allowed my children to sleep in my bed for the entire year I was separated because I was terrified of the night. That, and the fact I was convinced a mad killer was going to break in the house and murder us in our sleep. Go figure! So, every night after the kids fell asleep, I pulled a heavy mirrored dresser in front of the bedroom door and lay awake praying, watching television or reading – anything I could do to fall asleep without taking pills.

Twelve months into this madness, my bedroom was looking more like the third stall of a garage than a sacred lair. The children were so used to sleeping in my room they were beginning to populate it with their own furniture; dinosaur village, wood blocks, doll buggies and “Barney” were among the items I had to haul out every morning and it was getting old, not to mention, weird. One chilly fall night, everything changed.

As soon as Emily and Jake fell asleep, I closed the book I was reading and mentally prepared to “secure the chamber.” I rolled on to my side and pushed myself up to a seated position, “How long are you going to hold everyone hostage in this prison cell?” I said out loud as I plopped my feet on the floor. “Aren’t you tired of this little game you’re playing?” “Yes,” I heard a voice reply with a sigh. “I’m so very, very tired.” Surprised at the unexpected admission, I sat on the edge of the bed somewhat bewildered. For a year I never questioned the routine, why now? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath hoping my brain would recycle, but it was eerily still; no murderous thoughts, no fear, not even a prayer was coming forward. I wondered if I needed to hit the reset button on the back of my head to refresh the data file; I was having a “no-thought” moment and it scared the crap out of me. And then a single thought made me blink. “Tonight is going to be different…” I shook my head and wondered where such a foreign thought came from, just as another forced my shoulders back and chin up, “God,” I said deliberately, “I’m not going to pull the dresser in front of the door tonight because I refuse to be afraid. If someone breaks in the house, all I ask is that you allow them to kill us all at the same time so that none of us has to live without the other. Oh and God, make it quick. I don’t like messy things.” And that’s the last thing I remember before my life changed, forever.

In a dream, I was standing in my family room looking out the window when I felt a warm, loving presence behind me in the kitchen. I turned and looked over my shoulder, and I saw him, “Oh there you are,” I said, as if seeing someone I loved deeply walk into the room, “I’m so happy to see you. Are you Sam?” He shook his head yes and I wanted to leap over the couch and fling my arms around him in gratitude for returning to me; Sam is a large black man with broad shoulders and a gentle smile, and happens to be my guardian angel. I knew the moment I saw him who he was, and we had a conversation unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was telepathic. He “told” me I was safe and then pointed to the door leading to the basement. I knew intuitively he wanted me to go downstairs, so I moved to door and opened it. The stairwell was dimly lit but I could see bright light at the bottom of the stairs and I wanted to see what it was. When I reached the last stair, I peeked around the corner and gasped – the entire room was FILLED with angels!

They were moving around the room like ice skaters only they didn’t have feet; their garments were draped beneath them like sleds. Some angels were moving quickly, others were hovering. I could sense male and female energy but they all looked different. Some had long hair, some short: brunette, blonde and red. Every angel was an exquisite creature that I wanted to touch and filter through my skin. The fabric they were wearing shimmered and I saw blue and purple and yellow and a sort of opalescence; it looked like mist with texture, if that’s possible. A “male” angel was hovering directly in front of me and he was so beautiful, I wanted to kiss him. He loved me, I could feel it, and I wanted to be where he was, and she was, and they were… forever. “Thank you for coming,” I said as I looked around, and just then, I remembered Sam. He was standing at the top of the stairs and I motioned for him to come down, instead, he smiled and waved goodbye, and then he was gone… and then I woke up… and I was different.

That night, I felt a connection to something far more loving than I can explain. It was as if my heart expanded and I floated out of my body in bliss. I felt completely and mortally safe and I’ve never been afraid to be alone in my house again. Although Sam has never appeared in my dreams again, he has presented himself from time-to-time in human form; on a street corner, in a book store, even at a jobsite once. But as soon as I recognize him, he’s gone, leaving me once again in a mystical wanderlust. It doesn’t take an event to meet an angel, only the willingness to embrace the light when it’s standing in front of you.