Her name was Elisabeth but she was to be called “Beth”.
She was tall with long, wavy brown hair and the face of an angel because, she was an angel.
I was just 11 years old, when I saw her in my pantry.
I was searching for a snack. My mom passed me by with a laundry basket full of clothes.
I paid no mind until I heard, from what seemed a distance, “Lauuuuureeeennn.”
I replied, “YEA?!”
And then I felt it.
An energy. A tingling on the back of my neck. A movement of air.
I turned and she took my breath away.
She was beautiful, and without hesitation, I knew exactly who she was.
In her white dress, floating.
A smile crept upon her face, as if to say, “I’m here. I see you. I’m with you, always.”
And then she evaporated right before my very eyes.
Immediately, I felt my heart restart, pumping so hard, I could feel it through my chest. I gasped for air and screamed out for my mother.
She came downstairs and I pleaded with her, already knowing the answer, “Mom. Did you call my name? Did you CALL MY NAME?!”
She, confused and concerned, reassured me that she hadn’t.
Shaking, I processed what I had seen and felt and have kept close to my heart for the last 25 years.
I had seen her, my sister Elisabeth, gone before I was born.
And today, I see her still, in the face of my daughter, Elizabeth Joy.
My guardian angel.