Graves Into Gardens.

The day my father died is marked in my memory forever, not only because of the sorrow it brought but because of something extraordinary that happened. It felt like heaven reaching out to touch me.

At the time, I was living alone in Ashton under Lyne, far from my family in Nigeria. Just the night before, I had spoken to my father. We shared hope. We prayed. I believed he would recover. That night, I stayed up until three in the morning, praying for his healing. The world felt still. Then I heard a knock at my door. When I opened it, no one was there.

A quiet voice in my spirit said, go to bed.

So I did.

Three hours later, just before six, my brother called with the news. My father was gone.

In the hours that followed, I felt disoriented. The grief was surreal. I walked aimlessly into the city centre and back. On my way home, I caught a glimpse of white near my house. It seemed as if someone was walking just behind me. I wondered whether it was only my mind trying to make sense of the shock. Still, there was something sacred in the air, something I could not explain.

When I returned to my small studio on Manchester Road, something happened that I will never forget. For a few moments, I felt as though I had been lifted from the room. It was as if I had stepped into another realm. I heard the sound of a choir, full of joy and celebration, singing a line I had never heard before.

🎶Oh there is nothing better than you.🎶

It was radiant. It was wild. It was beautiful. I could not see it with my eyes, but I knew deep in my spirit what it was. It felt like my father’s welcome celebration in a place beyond this world. It felt like a message telling me he was all right. I remembered the knock on the door. I believe now that it was him, stopping by for a final goodbye.

When I returned to myself, I searched for that lyric online and found the song. Graves Into Gardens by Brandon Lake. I had never heard it before that moment, but now it is part of me. It became a lifeline. It was confirmation that the grave is not the end. That something beautiful comes after.

Even now, when I hear it, I feel held. I feel reminded that there is more than what we can see. This song did not just comfort me. It changed me.

It is my sorrow song, my peace song, and my anthem of hope.

Thank you, Annie Kapur for the opportunity to relive this experience by telling this story.