She Saw Her Husband’s Soul Leave His Body As A White Vapor

Rita Jiannetti shared her miracle story with me on March 12th via email. She shares the painful but hopeful story of how her beloved husband passed away, and how she miraculously saw a white vapor exit his mouth the moment he died.

I have to say, February 1st was to be our last normal day. There were signs and symptoms that had been ignored and brushed aside. Finally, the next day, the symptoms were so severe that we finally got an agreement that a trip to the doctor was necessary. But fate wouldn’t wait for an appointment. An emergency flight to the Emergency room would ultimately tell us the harsh truth. Many tests later, confirmation of our biggest fear: Stage 4 colon cancer, an inoperable tumor which was partially obstructing his colon but had already invaded his pancreas and liver, along with large nodules in the lungs, was the diagnosis.

George was a fighter, and given a chance for a possible reduction of severe symptoms, he took it.
The oncologist is a positive, outgoing, kind,d and knowledgeable doctor. She told it like it was and could promise no cure. She could only hope for a lessening of his symptoms.

The first Chemotherapy treatment went pretty well, with minimal side effects. The second chemotherapy did not go so well. George’s issues all along were lack of appetite, nausea, and stomach pain. We tried so hard to get him to eat and drink, but he couldn’t. We even said you’re going to die if you don’t eat, but even then, he could only muster a mouthful or so.

He never wanted to give up, and until the last few weeks, he never gave up hope. He would occasionally make comments like “You know I am dying”. Then he added, “I want a blue casket”. I didn’t know how to answer him.

He was wasting away. He was in constant pain and developed a bed sore. This bedsore couldn’t be healed. repositioned him and changed bandages to no avail. The pain in the end from the bedsore was probably equal to that of the tumor pressing on his chest.

I was trying to make sense of all the suffering George endured. It went beyond normal suffering.
Unable to eat and barely drink for weeks, it was a starvation of the body, and it showed. Every bone
could be seen through his skin. The fight to keep him comfortable and awake was constant. The pain medication would help with the pain, but he would be sleeping all the time and confused when awake.

At one point, after going down for a test as he was being put in his bed, George called my daughter over and said in a clear voice, “There is going to be a miracle”. Then he went back to being in pain and confused. Later that night, as my daughter was driving down a dark country road, a delivery driver stepped in front of her truck without looking! My daughter barely missed her, and the woman’s cry of fear could be heard through the open window. Shaken up and grateful, my daughter wondered if this was the miracle her father had mentioned.

Finally, doctors began to say there would be only days to weeks for George to live. He came home for 2 days, but we couldn’t control his pain. He could no longer walk or get out of bed. His mental state was deteriorating. He was angry with the world. Trying to position him or do any basic care brought screams of pain. I couldn’t handle this anymore. I needed help. I called the hospice, and within an hour, they sent an ambulance to pick him up. George was angry at me for bringing him to the hospice hospital. But they could monitor his pain. They had access to a better class of medications, and he finally seemed relaxed and no longer in pain.

The people at the hospice were amazing, so kind and caring. They treated his symptoms, mind and body. I was finally allowed to just sit with him. I could play his favorite music or TV show and be a little at peace in shared company. He mostly slept, but he was no longer in unrelenting agony.

Knowing death was looking over our shoulders, the family was coming to say goodbye. At this point, George didn’t seem awake. But I think he was listening somewhat. I think he enjoyed the voices of loved ones, being comforted by their presence. And fate would intervene. A music therapist happened to walk in at the same time the musicians in my family arrived. Songs were sung, and stories shared, reminiscent of our family gatherings. It was full of joy, and a positive energy was felt throughout the hospice. People would stand outside the room and join in songs with smiles on their faces.

At this point, doubts, my belief in God, his mercy, and his intentions began to waver. Why did George have to suffer so? Why was God allowing this to happen? There was so much pain and suffering and indignities. In 2 short months, to go from full of life and robust, to a pain-ridden skeleton was hard to bear. Hearing his cries of agony and screams will be forever in my memories. I couldn’t comprehend the suffering. To see him eaten inside by the cancer and also from the outside by the breakdown of skin in wounds that would not heal was unbearable.

I voiced my thoughts to the chaplain. She was an older woman with a great deal of experience. She sat with us as I questioned my beliefs in God. I don’t remember everything she said. I heard her own story of heartache and the heartache of others she had known. “You can’t understand God’s plan. We don’t know why there is suffering.” I felt my faith wavering. I thought of all the suffering in the world. I still wanted to believe.

I prayed with George, anointed him with holy oils and water, and placed the scapula around his neck. I told him to believe in Jesus. I know he was afraid. He didn’t think he deserved heaven. Although he could be grumpy in life, he always had a deep moral compass.

When he was still able to speak, he apologized for leaving me. He told me he lied to me. I said how? He said that he would always be here to take care of me. I told him it was okay, we’ll be fine.

The time was getting closer. There was no more conversation. Breathing was slower, and bodily functions were barely existent. I was told death would be soon, hours away. He stayed with us almost 2 days longer than the hospice professionals thought. But they said only God knows when it will happen.

I came on that last day by myself. I drove back roads because I wasn’t comfortable on the highway. It took an hour to get there. I stayed with him, held his hand, talked to him, and quietly felt his presence. I told him I would have to leave by 6 because it was getting dark and I couldn’t see well to drive later.

Sometimes, George’s eyes would tear as if he were crying. Initially, the Douala told me it was because he was sad to leave. But that day, she said she thought he was crying for joy. He was seeing something we could not.

I felt bad as I thought about having to leave him. But I was told some people want to die alone. We wondered if he wanted to be alone.

I was sitting with him, talking to him, holding his hand. I saw him close his mouth, which the Douala told me would happen right before death. When he opened his mouth again, a white vapor emerged. I thought to myself, he is dying, his spirit is leaving his body. He opened his mouth one last time and breathed no more. A white wispy vapor was leaving his body through his mouth. It floated over his body and moved as if it were seaweed in a slow current of water.

I knew he was dead. I reached up and over to call the nurse. I sat back down and just stared at him in disbelief. His suffering was finally over. The nurse came in and was checking his heart, which beat slowly and finally stopped.

I didn’t think again about what I saw until later. I called my son to please come and be with me. I called my daughter, but she already knew. I asked her how she knew. She said the sky had grown black and the wind had picked up. She just knew. I looked out the window, and the sky was dark, and I could see and hear the wind.

I sat with George’s body, but I knew he was no longer there. I packed up the room. I covered him with his favorite blanket. After my son came, we spent a little more time together, then we left.

When we went outside, we were astounded! The sun shone, covering everything in beautiful golden rays! Words cannot describe it; we were both astounded by its beauty. I decided to risk the ride home with my son following me. That way, I wouldn’t have to go back to get my vehicle. Right after leaving, we saw a rainbow over a field. We could only see the base of it because it was massive! It was like a portal, no top, just the bottom. We both felt that it was a sign from God that George was in heaven. My daughter called me from where she was and said the sky was a beautiful color, and there was a rainbow there also! She also said she felt like it was a sign from God that George was in heaven.

I think that the miracle that George foretold was his own. It wasn’t a cure for cancer; it was his own journey to heaven. I think God allowed me to see his spirit leaving his body because he wanted me to see that he was indeed still “alive”. The golden sky and rainbow were God’s celebration of George’s arrival in heaven. That all people who trust in God and Jesus will be rewarded.

I also believe God wants me to share this story. So please share this and spread it! It is just one person’s journey, but it is a road we can all travel!