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Sherrie had met her first love, Len, when they were both teenagers, over twenty years ago. They married, had two children, remained deeply in love, and "life went on normally" until Len suffered his first heart attack, about six years ago, and their "little world came crashing down." After a hospital stay, he had four years of good health, until a test in early 1994 revealed "a few things that the doctor said he'd keep an eye on."
A few weeks after that test, Sherrie began to sense that their time together might be drawing to an end. Alone in the house one afternoon, she woke up from a nap crying over a dream that her husband had died. "Just then I heard a voice, as if someone were whispering in my ear, 'It's going to happen this year,"' she recalled. "I was quite shaken, as he had been doing so well. I tried to dismiss it as nothing but a bad dream, but it was not to be so easy."
Len suffered his second heart attack the following month, which necessitated a seven-way bypass operation. The surgery was successful, and Len came off the respirator the next morning, but he then came down with pneumonia and was put into an induced coma and back on the respirator for another week. "Miraculously, he came out of that fine," said Sherrie. It took several months to recover to the point that he could return to work, but within a month of his doing so, he suffered a third attack that destroyed half of his heart.
"He would not recuperate this time," said Sherrie. "He became more tired and more weak each day." The months rolled by as Len's health declined. One day in early October, as he was helping his sister prepare for a Halloween party, he drew a sketch of a witch with her tongue sticking out on his desk calendar, filling the space for a day that at the time was still in the future; the rest of the calendar was blank. Sherrie didn't discover this sketch until a few days after that date had passed. By then she knew that it was the date on which Len suffered his final heart attack at home—the day on which, according to Sherrie, "he died for the first time."
After spending the morning and afternoon with Len, she had left to pick up their son from football practice. Within twenty minutes, she returned to discover Len in the agony of his attack. "I called 911 and they came within five minutes. I did not know it at the time, but my husband had died before they arrived. They put him in the ambulance, and we proceeded to the hospital while they administered CPR and brought him back to life. At one point we had to pull over, and I tried to see what was happening in the back. The driver would not let me see, and all of a sudden I felt a surge of warm energy flush through my whole body, head to toe. When it was over, I felt very weak and numb." After they arrived at the emergency room, several hours of intense effort passed before Sherrie was permitted to return to her husband's side. "When they allowed me to go back and see him, I knew in my heart that he was gone," she told me. "That poor, defenseless person with all the tubes running in and out of him was not my husband anymore. I knew, but I still prayed for a miracle."
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