I never believed in the Angel of Death or the Grim Reaper. I always thought that was a made up spectre, kind of like a fallen angel. The angels I work with are so kind and loving, how could there be such a thing as an Angel of Death?

Well, my beliefs were changed when my mom went into the hospital for the first time last fall. At 94, she had double pneumonia and reactions to her medications. She was struggling for her life, but you’d never know it to talk with her. She kept her sense of humor and her lucidity, no matter what medical procedure she was enduring.

That night, when I became a believer in the Grim Reaper, she was asleep. My brother was dozing, my sister was on her iphone, and I was sending distant healing, as we surrounded my mom’s bedside in the hospital.

The first thing that caught my attention was a waft of icy cold air. I opened my eyes from my distant session and glanced around. No one seemed to be aware of it but me, as they didn’t look up or move. The iciness increased and so did my anxiety. There didn’t appear to be a logical reason for the cold air. Next, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. That’s not a good sign. For me, when my hair stands up, it usually means I’m feeling some level of threat. And this one, I couldn’t see. I could only feel it.

At that same moment, I noticed a shadow by the door. A very large shadow, with a sort of hood on its head. And it drifted into our room. Literally, this shadow outlined the very characterization of the Grim Reaper. Dark. Tall. Gangly. Hooded. And a very pointed bony finger sticking out from one of the sleeves.

It drifted into the room. And again, I was the only one to notice, as no one moved or reacted. I had goosebumps everywhere. As it drifted in, the figure glanced at mom in the bed, but then came straight to me, pointing its finger at my heart. I felt a freezing cold circle in the center of my chest. The figure paused for an instant, and then drifted to my sister next to me. Again, pointing its finger, she didn’t react as she continued to send a text. Moving next to my brother as he dozed, the finger pointed at him. Each time, it appeared that the Grim Reaper was checking to see if we were to be next to die. And we weren’t. Finally, the figure stopped at the foot of mom’s bed and pointed a finger at her heart. There was a hesitation, and then the finger pulled back into the sleeve, and the Grim Reaper glided out of the room.

I assumed from that altercation that Mom wasn’t ready to go just yet.

And she wasn’t.

But that experience changed my belief about the Angel of Death forever. I still am not quite sure if this angel visits everyone before his/her physical death, but it certainly seems to hang out in hospitals. And it appeared just as described in so many books!