How Mike could be seeing himself as a young man in the face of the old man was an anomaly, and the bizarre peripheral spinning only added to his astonishment. The light, and this time, a silhouette of what appeared to be an angelic creature came into sight. It was as if the light was an opening of some sort behind the man–as though the being was a short distance behind Mr McBride. There was dead silence surrounding, and Mike was nearly passing out from the shock of disbelief.
“Michael. Michael.” Within seconds of spotting the luminescent being, a man appeared. Mike knew the voice, and he knew the outline of the approaching figure. Mike let out a whimper, “Dad?” “It’s real, Mike. Jesus is real, Mike. He is love.” His father was standing just inside of the opening. Mike jumped to his feet and quickly moved towards his father.
But, in an instant, the light was gone. The chance to embrace his dad had passed, just as suddenly as he had during the accident.
The room was no longer gyrating, and the old man slouched in his seat. He appeared to be suffocating. After Mike had come back to his senses in a degree suitable to notice Mr. McBride’s stupor, he grabbed his shoulder and looked into his eyes. Mike shouted, “Are you okay?!” The breaths began to return to Douglas. “What happened,” Mr. McBride asked, as if he was oblivious to all that had transpired.
Suddenly, Mike fell straight onto his back, completely unconscious.