Do Angels Have Names?

There is a fleeting instant in time that all of us experience every single day. It is as normal and routine as breathing. But, without forewarning, it can often be much more electrifying. I am talking about the exact moment of our first consciousness as we awake.   Many times we don’t even pay attention. But this tick of the clock can be more intense than anything, and especially for people with frequent and vivid dreams.

Some say that the subconscious mind is where our memories and beliefs are stored. But what about that exact instant between the conscious and subconscious state?

There is a singular experience of this fleeting moment that I will never forget. To this day I am not completely sure if I was in a hidden dream-like state, or in the first flashes of awakening.

Her face was delicate, detailed, sensuous, her hair- flowing, smooth as silk, her skin- elusive, fragile as a rose petal, and her aura of peacefulness and comfort was overpowering.

I instantly felt secure and relaxed; free of anxiety. I remember the apparition even today; she was such a stunning young lady. Believe me, guys in their early twenties tend to pay attention to this sort of thing.

I was lying in bed on my back after many hours of forced involuntary oblivion. I also knew I was in the city of Cleveland two hundred miles from my home, in a small room overlooking the busy city. Though not my own bed, this place was for comfort and curing. What kind of person would travel to Ohio and expect to see an angel? Certainly not me!

I wonder if angels have names. I had one elusive opportunity to ask this question, and it never even occurred to me. Now, I sometimes wonder, did I really meet her back in that long cold winter of 1977, during the icy, snowy, dreary days along the shores of Lake Erie?

I vividly remember the feeling of comfort, of assurance. It was as if she wrapped her wings around my body to provide a safe, soothing sanctuary. My fragile frame was still at risk and needed attention, but not while I was in her presence. It was as if she enveloped all my cares and tensions, and with the softness of her breath, created an environment for my healing.

This memory though not lengthy, has been long lasting. Hours later, when consciousness finally started to appear, a man in a white lab coat entered my room and told me things had gone well, but that I had given them all quite a scare. “We almost lost you.” were his exact words.

I wanted to tell him, or anyone for that matter about the angel, but I was silent, unable to speak. Later that day though, a precious, soft-spoken young beauty with the most gentle, graceful appearance entered my room to confirm my wellbeing. I instantly grasped and cherished that this was my angel.

But wait! How did I see her earlier? How did I feel the presence of her wings? I was confused. She softly announced that it was time to leave this special room and move to another. I understood, but I still couldn’t speak; there were too many tubes.

By the next day, just as time surely passes, I was becoming more of myself. I decided to tell my precious caregiver that I had envisioned her as an angel. I would provide the details of how well she comforted me and also mention the wings. I would ask her name. It was imperative for me to express how vital she was, and how she made a difference when I needed it most.

But alas, it was not meant to be. She did not enter my room ever once more, though I looked for her.   I even asked about her, but no one recognized the description I gave. No one knew her name.

It took another five days, and slowly I got stronger. Finally, between Christmas and New Years, I left the busy city and returned home to the snow covered hills of western Pennsylvania.

Did I really see an angel? What was her name?