Some angels look like normal humans. People like Cute Pam that wake up at 1:30 am to help a friend in need. And then offer meals and babysitting and phone calls and anything else I can think of. Thank you.
Some angels look like doctors, with lab coats and id badges and floppy-fish cold handshakes. Those angels offer kind words and reassurance that you're doing the right thing.
Some angels look like little boys with sticking-up bed hair and brownest of brown eyes. Little boys like Josh who pat your back and tell you that "It will be ok" and "Poppa can do back flips now if he wants to."
Some angels look like Poppa, freshly minted, off to meet his Annie in the ethereal space we call Heaven. No more pain, no more Diabetes, all the donuts, Red Lobster and peanut butter he can stomach.
Rest well, dear one.
Something tells me in Heaven they don't run out of toilet paper. And I'm sure Pavarotti will be available for personal concerts. That will make Dad happy.
"I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, … my Spirit shall be in your heart, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” Doctrine and Covenants 84:88