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Love Never Dies

               

                                      

by Jan Kucker                                                                                          a psychic medium who shows YOU                                                                                      the art of empowering your heart & soul

707.579.4809 this is a land line - receives texting

Email me at:  wingsofangels@JanKucker.com

 

Saturday began like any other day of adventure for Eddie and me. We love waking up and spontaneously deciding what we'd like to do, and this day was no exception. However, if I had known the way I was going to meet Smitty's spirit, I might not have chosen to get up at all.

 

We had decided to take a country drive to enjoy the beautiful weather. We were deep in conversation when out of nowhere cars began skidding and sliding all over the road.

There was a loud crash and squeal of tires as we saw the oncoming car skidding directly toward us. "Holy crap!" is all I could manage to squeak out as I braced myself for the impact. I said a quick prayer, hoping that the impact wouldn't be as harsh as appeared inevitable.

When we finally came to a stop and looked up to see what hit us, all we saw was twisted metal and plastic shards of something that used to be a car. I knew that if we had been just a second farther down the road, ours could have been that twisted-metal car. When someone asks, "What does a second mean?" I know it means a life, and in this case, two lives that live on.

The car that hit us got the brunt of the impact and was in pretty bad shape. What had been the trunk was reduced to twisted metal and broken plastic. The older driver was slumped over the wheel with a big gash in the middle of his forehead. There were also gashes on his hands and his skin was pasty gray; he was lucky to be alive.

About 20 minutes after the horrific six-car pileup, a Medevac helicopter was on the scene of the accident. I thought for sure they would take the older gentleman since he was in such serious condition, but to my dismay, they took the passenger from the truck that had caused the accident.

A little while later, an ambulance arrived and the paramedics whisked off the older gentleman onto a stretcher, placed him inside the ambulance and turned on the siren as the ambulance made its way to the hospital.
 

Hours later Eddie and I finally made it to the safety of our home, with the assistance of a great tow truck driver. When my nerves finally settled down, I emailed my friends and told them of the accident. 

Here are the responses from a couple of them:

      Jan, just about the time of the accident, I was really thinking about you. I had to stop what I was doing and start praying for you. I had no idea why, but the urgency was so strong, I just had to.     ––– Love, Daphne

     Jan, I don't believe this email! On Saturday morning I sat next to David and said, "I just felt you ..." I didn't know why at the time, but felt I needed to pray for you. I stopped what I was doing and asked God to protect you. It is weird; I had you on my mind and could not stop thinking about you. I am so thankful that you are okay          –––Love, Gina

On the night of the accident, I didn't sleep well; I tossed and turned so many times I lost count. I couldn't get that older gentleman out of my mind. Was he alive? Did his family know what had happened to him? I had to find out.

So the next morning I printed out a couple pictures that we had taken at the scene of the accident, got in my car and drove to the nearest CHP office, which was just a few miles away.

In front of the line at the CHP office was a woman who was trying to get an accident report. The officer was giving her a real tough time. The lady turned to me after the officer left and told me that she does this for a living, but she had never had such a hard time getting a report before. I worried findng out about the older gentleman might be harder than I thought.

I'm a firm believer in Guardian Angels who are around us always. So I began calling on my Angels to help me out. My Angels kept telling me that I must find out about the man who had been taken away in the ambulance and pray for him. In less than a minute after my prayer, an officer came up to me and asked if he could help me.

I laid the accident photos out on the counter and told him that I was involved in this accident on Saturday and I need to know who the man was in this car so I could pray for him. The officer looked at me and said, "Wait here for just a moment and I'll be back."

"Okay, Angels, you really need to spread your influence over this man," I said. No more than five minutes passed before the officer came back and handed me the preliminary report.

I couldn't believe what just happened. Yeah, my Angels did a fabulous job! I looked down at the report and found his name, Wallace Smith. "Wallace, I'm so glad to know your name," I thought. But then, looking more closely at the report, I saw the word "fatal." Wallace had passed away. He died without his family knowing what happened. Then I noticed there was a notation inside one of the boxes, labeled "Son" with a phone number. How lucky could I be?

When I got home, I once again asked my Angels for help. I just wanted to let Wallace's family know that he was taken care of in his last few hours of life. "Please let someone be home so I can share this," I pleaded with my Angels.

Here's how it played out:

On the second ring, a man picked up the phone and said, "Hello."

"Do you have a father named Wallace Smith?" I asked.

"Yes, I do."

"Was he involved in a car accident on Saturday?" I asked.

"Yes, yes he was."

"I was one of the people in the accident. Your father's car struck our car before it came to a stop," I said.

"Did he die at the accident?" he questioned. He explained that he had come home from a trip to L.A. and found a note taped on his door to call the police. He was told his Dad had been in a car accident and had died. They didn't have any information to give us on how it happened, just that his car was impounded and his body was in the morgue, tagged "John Doe." "He had no identification on his body, and it wasn't like my dad to do that; he always had his wallet on him."

"Well, as far as I know, your father was still alive when he was taken from the scene of the accident," I said. "I will tell you though, if your father had lived, his struggle to have a normal life would have been pretty hard due to the severity of the crash." I told him that I had overheard a fireman say, "His wallet's still in the car. What should we do with it?"

"He must have stopped somewhere to get something to drink and left it on the console. It's the only thing I can think of that could have happened," his son said.

"I just wanted to let you know that your father didn't die alone," I said. "He had a nurse and a doctor that were in the line of cars behind us; they worked on him until the ambulance arrived. They didn't take him in the Medevac helicopter and I really don't know why. I think they said his vitals were too low."

"He had open heart surgery last year," his son said.

"Maybe that's why they didn't take him in the helicopter." I went on to tell him that I felt such an urgency to connect with his family, to let them know what had happened. I shared that my daughter's best friend's parents had died in a horrible car crash and the pain of the "not knowing" had always weighed heavily on their minds and left a huge scar in her family's heart.

I asked Wallace's son, "Can you tell me about your Dad? He looked like such a sweet, gentle man."

"His name is Wallace, just like mine, but they've called him Smitty his whole life, and they've called me Wally. He was 88; you wouldn't believe how lively he was. He'd been a plasterer his whole life. Up until his heart attack he was still working, helping friends and family. After his heart attack, he still wanted to help, so we'd just prop him up and put a trowel in his hand and he'd go to work doing his plastering. My dad was a good man who loved life. I talked to him every day and I'm going to really miss him."

After a month passed, I felt compelled to send the following letter to Wally:

Dear Wally,
     My heart goes out to you and your wife. Only time will heal the sadness you are feeling now.

     My daughter's best friend lost both of her parents in a tragic car accident four years ago. She never got any closure on how the accident happened and it left her heart heavy for a very long time.

     My wish for you is that by sharing what I know about the accident, you will have the closure that my daughter's friend never did. 

    Sometimes the synchronicity of people being in the right place at the right time is uncanny. Just as I feel my husband and I were meant to be involved in the six-car pileup with your dad, I think your dad's Angels made sure that someone would relay to you and your family that your dad was being taken care of in the last moments of his life.

     I'm sending you my brochure to let you know a little about me and the work that I do with Angels. Or should I say, the work the Angels have me do.

      Lots of Angel Love to you & your wife,                     
      Jan

Smitty seemed pleased that I sent the note to his son and he didn't relay any more messages to me for three or four weeks. Then one morning I woke to Smitty's voice whispering to me, "You need to send the pictures of the accident to my son."

"Do you really think he can handle the pictures? Your car was smashed up pretty bad."

"My son needs to see what went on," Smitty assured me.

"Okay, you know your son better than I do," I said. So I put the pictures in an envelope with a note and I made a call to Wally to ask him if he wanted the pictures.

On the third ring Wally picked up the phone.

"Hello, Wally, this is Jan Kucker. I was in the accident with your dad."

"I remember," he said.

"Well I got another message from your dad." I said. "He wants me to send the pictures of the accident to you. Do you want them?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," he told me.

"Do me a favor. When you open the picture package, please have your wife with you.  The pictures are really hard to look at. The crash was pretty violent."

"I promise," he said.

"You know, my father's best friend was returning from my dad's funeral and the same thing happened to him," Wally said.

"You've got to be kidding," I said.

"I wish I were. Funny thing, his daughter had just spent the weekend in L.A. and come home to the same sticky note on the door as we did: 'Call the police department.'  She has no idea what happened. We've been comparing notes on how the police notify you of your loved one's death. I guess she'll never know what happened at her dad's accident. I thank you so much for telling me what happened to my dad. Knowing that he was cared for in the last hours of his life gives my family such a sense of relief."

"Your dad wouldn't let me rest until I told you what had happened. I think it was his love for you and his family that he pushed me so hard to make sure you all got his message and I truly believe that's why my husband and I were meant to be at this accident."

"Take care, Wally. Know that your dad loved you very much when he was alive. Because he was so persistent that I pass along his message to you after his death proves that his love didn't die with his body."

 


 

Jan Kucker

a psychic medium who shows YOU the art of empowering your heart

 

To make your appointment for a reading call

                           707.579.4809  Land line - receives texting                                                              Email me at:  wingsofangels@JanKucker.com   

 

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