17 June 2012
You swear he came to see you, Visited you in your hospital bed. The only problem is, It was three years after he was pronounced dead. You tell all of us grandchildren, You really freak us out, But you tell it with a smile as it's something you're happy about. You were really ill Your life nearly lost. You say you shook uncontrollably Felt like you were in a permanent frost. He came to you, Your doting soldier dad, And told you not to feel so bad. Things would get better, You would get better he said. And softly stroked your 11 year old head. Over the next two days your health turned round, The nurses couldn't keep you down. There you were back to your usual self, You keep a photo of him up on a shelf. You like to think if we need him one day, A visit unto us he'll pay.
It's true that this is something my Nan swears that happened! She calls him our guardian angel - her dad that was lost at war when she was 9.
Opuss № I