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Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Timmy's Dad, I'm
41 years old, and I think it's safe to say that I've lived an ordinary life
here in suburban Philadelphia. I grew up in a small rural town with a Mom,
Dad, three brothers, and a sister. I graduated from the local high school,
went to college, and then landed a job as an electrical engineer at a large
corporation. I married a spunky, vivacious girl and moved into a new housing
development in the suburbs. At first, we didn't give much thought to raising
a family, although we knew it was definitely in our future. In the meantime,
we found the most adorable little dog (he found us?) and brought him home
with us. Our first child, my beautiful daughter, entered this world in 1995. This event, in itself, really upset the apple cart, so to speak, in terms of my priorities and my outlook on life. Then, in 1998, my son, Timothy, was born. In retrospect, it was obvious that he knew he would be with us for only a short period of time, because he lived life to the fullest for as much as an infant/toddler is able to do so. Timmy didn't like to sleep much and he was always able to paint a smile on anyone's face. Timothy and his Big Sister were virtually inseparable and loved to play together. Then, early in 1999, a sudden and unexplainable illness befell Timmy and took him away from us in a period of only two weeks. Only a parent who has lost a child can imagine the inward implosion of raw emotion that ensued. Although I'm not normally the "poetic" type, I found some relief in writing poetry and messages of personal inspiration as an outlet for my feelings. I also found some relief from my grief in writing a journal of my memories of Timmy as a way of preserving our special bond. My first premonition/intuition that something was terribly wrong with my son occurred on the day of his appointment with the doctor. I was at work while my wife took Timmy to see the pediatrician when a surge of an urgent, unsettled emotion suddenly overwhelmed me. I felt a knot in my stomach and short of breath, and I drove straight home, not really sure why. In the meantime, my wife had been trying to call me at work with news that Timmy's condition was much worse than originally thought and that he had to be taken to Children's Hospital in Philadelphia. She was surprised to find that I was already home when she finally contacted me. Many dark, sleepless nights followed as Timmy lay in a hospital bed, and I could only helplessly observe the relentless deterioration of his health. The doctors in the finest children's hospital in the world could find no cause for his symptoms. When he was placed on life support, unable to breathe on his own, my wife and I simultaneously received a strong and forceful intuitive urge to let him go as soon as possible. A few hours later, he courageously left our world as his Mommy comforted him in her arms. I remember the weeks and months that followed as a dizzying blur where pain took the place of time and the world seemed to swirl around me, silently and eerily, as if I was a spectator watching from a distance. Timmy's Mommy and Big Sister and I went through the motions of making the final arrangements and burying Timothy. I've included a copy of his eulogy here (slightly edited for privacy). The day after Timmy died, my brother and his family, who live more than 300 miles away, reported something very unusual. When my brother and his wife began to explain to their son (my 3-year-old nephew) the tragic news of Timmy's passing, my nephew suddenly interrupted and stated that he already knew that a young boy named Timmy had died since this boy had already told him so last night. The kids also reported seeing dancing lights on the walls the night that Timmy died and that those lights were Timmy. Timmy's Big Sister (who was also three years old at the time) mentioned, nonchalantly, that she had seen Timmy "flying" outside her window a few days later. The tone of her voice implied that this was a normal, everyday occurence! I think it's pretty amazing what the open and uncluttered mind of a child can see. Then about one month after Timmy died, I had the most powerful, vivid, and colorful "dream" that I had ever experienced. The part of the dream that I remember is of Timmy sitting on the floor bathed in a warm, glowing light, looking up at me with the most genuine and heartwarming smile that a person could possibly muster. A soft light seemed to radiate from his body, outlining his form in a warm glow. Instinctively, I somehow knew that all was well. I woke up, excited, and almost breathless. This dream was very different from any other that I had had. In spite of all this, the significance of this dream didn't become apparent until later. While hiking on a nature trail months later, I was feeling particularly grief-stricken since Timmy was supposed to have been on this particular vacation with me. (I had gone hiking with Timmy the previous summer where he rode along in a backpack strapped to my shoulders.) Part of the trail skirted along the edge of a cemetery. As I approached a large headstone, a small songbird suddenly landed on that headstone and began chirping loudly and incessantly. The bird definitely caught my attention and I walked to within a few feet of the bird. The little bird didn't budge as I came closer, and he kept on trumpeting his message, never once hesitating, in an almost "scolding" fashion. I had never seen anything like this! Then a thought popped into my head that Timmy was somehow behind this, and the thought of that possibility made me chuckle. The veil of grief suddenly lifted, at least for a short while. (As you may soon discover, many people receive messages from their passed love ones via animals, believe it or not, especially birds and butterflies). Timmy's Mommy has also had experiences where an owl will appear to her when a family member's death is imminent. She was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes a few years after Timmy died when, in broad daylight, a large owl landed on the fence that borders our backyard, right next to the swing set that Timmy used to enjoy. The owl sat there for some time. My wife was surprised that instead of feeling dread, she felt a warmth and a knowing that Timmy was OK. In about the same timeframe (which happened to be right before Mother's Day), on my way home from work I suddenly had the impulse to stop at a local trinket store to find a Mother's Day gift for my wife. My wife is a BIG fan of Precious Moments figurines. Much to my dismay, this particular store was no longer carrying the Precious Moments figurines, although three or four still remained unsold on the shelves. One of the figurines immediately caught my eye -- it was a little boy angel with the message "Forever in Our Hearts" (#108541). The store owner was surprised that this figurine remained unsold in spite of its popularity. When the packing box for this figurine could not be located, I knew in my gut that this figurine was somehow placed there especially for my wife. Recently, the family across the street from us moved out of town and the new owners moved in. You'll never guess the names of the father and the son. Right, Timothy and Timothy, Jr.! Coincidence or not? You decide. (However, keep in mind that there is no such thing as coincidence, as any reputable psychic medium or intuitive will tell you.) All of these experiences began to take their toll on my curiosity. What was going on? What was that dream all about? Did other people have the same or similar experiences when they lost a child? I began doing searches on the internet and reading a lot of books in an effort to answer some of these questions. To make a long story short, one thing lead to another which lead to another which....well, you get the idea. I soon discovered that almost everybody who loses a child has some sort of "ADC" (After Death Communication) experience! Some of these experiences are blatantly obvious, and some so very subtle. I was shocked to learn this, to say the least. Because these communications can be somewhat "questionable" at times, it is easy to dismiss them as "wishful thinking". But those who have directly experienced one or more ADCs know better. "Visitations" during dreams are especially common in the months and years following a loved ones' death since we are much more "in tune" with the other side in the sleep state. Further research uncovered the fact that there are many reputable and compassionate people who can communicate with "the other side" and relay wisdom and knowing that is well beyond typical human capabilities. These talented and gifted individuals are commonly known as "spirit messengers" or "psychic mediums" (for lack of a better term). Now, wait a minute, you say! "Mediums", as in seances, and the like? Well, yes, in short. While there are negative connotations attached to these words due to the tawdry history of mediumship, there are more and more individuals "coming out of the closet" (so to speak) with a true ability to communicate with those who have crossed over. Trust me in that you owe it to yourself to form your own opinions on these subjects independent of any beliefs that you may have already formed based upon other sources and preconceived notions. In closing, I invite you to further explore vast rooms behind the doors that TimmysGift.org could open for you. If you are a bereaved parent, know in your heart that you have found this web site for a reason. Please take a few moments to consider the potentials and possibilities that remain hidden from most of us in our day-to-day shuffle through life. And please feel free to share your story with others so that we can all learn to open our doors just a little bit farther....
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My Personal Story
