Finding Feathers

Dedication

For my parents,

Norman and Ila Compton,

With love

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank:

1.  John Perrin, my husband, for all his love and encouragement along the way.

2.  Joanna Sieberg, one of my dearest friends, who spent many hours editing and proofing my words.

3.  My sister, Connie Bongard, who listened and proofed my words.

4.  Barbara Bretton, Natalie Edwards and Jodene Perrin Gill who first encouraged me to write.

5.  Vivian Athey and Patty Morse, two of my dearest friends, who were always there to listen.

6.   Kali Amanda Browne for getting this book in the final form.

7.  And finally, Snow White the quail, whose white feathers continue to dust my path with hope.

Table of Contents

Prologue

The First Footnote

Chapter 1 :Holding Daddy’s Hand

Chapter 2: Western Rainbows

Chapter 3: My Life as an Oreo

Chapter 4: You are my Special Angel

Chapter 5: White Feathers in the Snow

Chapter 6: Heart to Heart

Chapter 7: Twinkle, Twinkle Lucky Star

Chapter 8: Stranger Things have Happened

Chapter 9: White Ice Cream

Chapter 10: Smelling Roses

Chapter 11: Dustin’s Dust Devil

Chapter 12: Angel Surprises

Chapter 13: The Wedding in the Desert

Chapter 14: The Fall

Chapter 15: Dustin Speaks to God

Chapter 16: Uncle Alvin's Pretty

Chapter 17: A Christmas Moment

Chapter 18: Shopping and Thorns

Chapter 19: Starting the New Year with Pennies from Heaven

Chapter 20: Uncle Wiggily

Chapter 21: Clusters of Angels—Part 1

Chapter 22: Clusters of Angels—Part 2

Chapter 23: John Sprouts Wings

Chapter 24: Uncle Alvin’s Feathers

Chapter 25: Celebrating Life

Chapter 26: Silly Superstitions

Chapter 27: White Feathers for Spring—Part 1

Chapter 28: White Feathers for Spring—Part 2

Chapter 29: A Date to Remember

Chapter 30: Dreams of Wonder

Chapter 31: Firemen to the Rescue

Chapter 32: Many Feathers

Chapter 33: Snow White and the Letter

Chapter 34: The White Feathers of Faith

Chapter 35: Mona Lisa Made me Smile

Chapter 36: My Farewell Party

Chapter 37: Electric Butt Smacker

Chapter 38: U-Turn

Chapter 39: Hugs and Noses

Chapter 40: Time Lock

Chapter 41: Feathers Everywhere

Chapter 42: Feathers and Fireworks

Chapter 43: What if

Chapter 44: I Want Mommy

Chapter 45: The Dinner

Chapter 46: Rainbows for Daddy

Chapter 47: December Surprise

The Final Footnote

Epilogue

Prologue

Hope flies on wings like angels’ wings. Hope sings no matter the darkness or light. Hope lives on when we have the faith that we can believe good things for and from ourselves.

~Author Unknown

Miracles come unexpectedly at various times in our lives. Occasionally, we immediately recognize them as such, but most often, I believe, we lack the vision to recognize them.

Finding Feathers is a collection of true stories about extraordinary things which happened to ordinary me. I came to believe that a white quail could be a divine messenger leading me through a period of enlightenment and finding faith.

Each of us has our own personal beliefs and these words are not meant to infringe upon or change any of those convictions.

It is my hope that these words might bring a ray of sunshine to you as you travel your path of life. My wish is that finding a white feather might also bring a smile to your face.

The First Footnote

Where is the yesterday that worried you so?

~Daphney Reeves

A whole is the sum of its parts. For the past seven years, I have been edging my way through periods of grief and anxiety, with the help of angels. It seems to me that angels can manifest themselves in many forms.

My grandson, Dustin, is an angel in disguise. Through his eyes, I have learned to face life with the faith of a child. Dustin and I are learning things together.

The other day, he called his grandpa to the kitchen table and I listened to the following conversation between my husband and grandson.

Dustin pointed to a drawing he had made on a sheet of paper, and said, Grandpa, this wavy line means you are alive. Grandpa replied, How do you know the wavy line means you’re alive? Dustin responded, I saw it on TV. They also talked about a straight line, like I drew under the wavy line, but I don’t remember what that means. Grandpa said, I’m pretty sure the straight line is called flat-lining. If a person flat-lines it means they are no longer alive. Dustin was quiet for a moment, then pointed at the drawing, and said, This wavy line is what I look like. This straight line is what Uncle Alvin looks like. His Great-Uncle Alvin had recently passed away. Dustin is quite perceptive for a seven-year-old.

I walked over to the table to see what he had drawn. Obviously, Dustin had seen an article on TV about the heart, and how its electrical system is displayed on graph paper when having an EKG test.

Grandma, this straight line is what Uncle Alvin looks like, and this wavy line is what I look like. said Dustin, as he pointed to the drawing. I said, That’s right Dustin, but when you enter heaven the wavy line returns and lasts forever. The little boy replied, I like being alive here on earth, Grandma Jeannie!

I said Yes, me too Dustin. Life here on earth is a beautiful thing. But once upon a time, my daddy took me on a little walk through heaven. It's also a pretty nice place. Some endings are beginnings.

Chapter 1

Holding Daddy’s Hand

Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe.

~St. Augustine

January 24, 2000

Dear Connie,

Daddy would have been eighty-three years old today. It has been five years since we lost him. He passed away March 7, 1995. Since his passing, I’ve been wanting to share something with you, as unbelievable as it may sound. As you know, I was with Daddy when he passed away and something strange, yet wonderful, happened that day. After the funeral I intended to tell John of the incident, but it seemed so outrageous words evaded me. I pondered the subject many times and eventually wrote a poem about it.

Writing the poem was an excellent way to deal with my grief and put the episode in perspective. However, the poem didn’t disclose everything I experienced that day. I know you have read the poem, but I wanted to share the experience with you in a more detailed and personal way. I’m sure the events happened just as I’ve noted below. I’m equally sure that most folks would conclude these events emerged from my imagination. In retrospect, it doesn’t matter since, for me, it is a story of hope and faith.

There are events that occur in our lives that are so unbelievable, mere words cannot begin to explain them. The following describes such an occurrence.

You know how sick Daddy was and how he just quit eating. You called for me to come so I jumped on a plane as fast as I could. I was crushed when I found out he had chosen not to allow life support. I became physically ill when I learned he was starving to death. I remember how we felt when he had the stroke in 1981. It left him partially paralyzed and made his life extremely difficult.

The morning before he passed through, a minister walked into the semi-dark room and asked if Mr. Compton wanted to pray with him. Ever so slowly Daddy raised his hand and formed a circle with his finger and thumb. I am not a religious soul, at least not a church going one, but I have always believed in the miracle of our soul continuing after we pass away. It dawned on me that I had never seen Daddy in church, except for weddings and funerals. It gave me comfort that he was allowing a minister to pray with him.

The minister asked me to follow him into the hallway. He said, It is time for you to let your father go and you need to speak the words. I was in shock. How could I do such a thing? I adored this man. He was my hero, the one who took me by the hand as a child while walking by mountain streams. He taught me how to fish. Daddy held my hand when nightmares came at night and gently escorted me back to my bed. He did not let go of my hand for the entire service while John and I were taking our wedding vows!

Mother left the hospital for a much-needed break, and Aunt Verna had left in search of coffee. I was alone with Daddy. I took the ministers advice and spoke the words to him. Words that I thought could never escape my mouth. He looked at me and life vanished from his wonderful old blue eyes. Then I felt him squeeze my hand. He was back, and then he was gone again. I remember seeing the clock which hung on the wall directly above his bed. However, I remember thinking, this is strange because I was looking at the clock below me. I was floating above the room, above Daddy lying in his bed. Suddenly, the semi-dark room was filled with a bright light!

Then I was standing by his bed, no longer floating. The bright light was gone. Everything happened so quickly! I must have screamed because a male nurse rushed into the room and confirmed our father had passed away. I kissed his forehead thinking how quickly life is gone. After the nurse left I tried to gather my wits about me, knowing I had to find Aunt Verna and notify the rest of the family.

I started out the door, but remembered my purse, so I turned back into the room where another amazing surprise awaited me. Two nurses, dressed in white uniforms, were standing on either side of Daddy's bed. They were both gently folding blankets into squares. The two young women were stunningly beautiful. One had long blond hair and the other had long black hair. The nurse with black hair looked up long enough to speak. She said, Don't worry, we are just tidying up a bit. He was very fortunate to be with a loved one as he passed through. Those were her exact words. I will never forget them. I told her, I am the lucky one to have a father that loved me as much as he did. Leaving the room again was difficult, but I managed to get as far as the door before I turned back to thank the nurses for their care. They were gone...disappeared into thin air! Daddy and I were alone!

Footnote: And there you have it; the day Daddy held my hand as he gave me a mini tour of heaven and I spoke to angels. Unbelievable, isn't it? The occurrence of these events immediately filled my soul with great hope, comfort, and a strong renewal of faith. I’m certain they will continue to do so the rest of my life. My hope is you too will be similarly affected after reading this letter.

Chapter 2

Western Rainbows

I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only a child playing on the seashore while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.

~Sir Isaac Newton

May 8, 1995

I wrote the following letter to my grandson Dustin shortly after we found out he was expected into this world. I started a journal in the form of letters to the new life which would soon enter ours.

Dear New Grandchild,

I was extremely close to my father, your great-grandfather. He was a big, jolly man, much like Santa Claus. When I was a youngster he would take my hand as we went for walks around the neighborhood. He loved nature and would point out things as we walked along; like birds, trees, flowers, animals and rainbows. He especially liked rainbows. He told me a pot of gold was at the end of every rainbow. Sometimes, we would hop in the car and go in search of the rainbows end.

Your great-grandpa was magic, or at least I thought so. He used to pull nickels and dimes from my ears, so I could buy pop or ice cream. He was funny, and people loved to hear him tell his stories. But mostly he was a quiet man, content to sit in his chair smoking his pipe or cigar, taking in all that was going on around him.

He loved to watch cowboy movies on television. When I was learning how to read, he taught me the letters of the alphabet by drawing pictures of cowboys using each letter. Great-Grandpa Red was especially good at sketching hats from the letter J.

When I was about twenty years old, he gave me a roadrunner pin that he purchased at a gift shop located in the La Posta Restaurant in Mesilla, New Mexico.

I will never forget the day he gave me the roadrunner. After dinner