My Dad was my best friend. Even though he was very busy, he always let me tag along to help him as he went about fixing thing on Saturdays. He’d send me to find tools, let me try them out, let me drive the tractor or mower with the little cart attached. He taught me so very many things and he always had a way of making it fun. As my three sons grew, we’d go to visit and help him with chores and it was still fun. My Dad had such a way of connecting with others. He’d kid and tease perfect strangers in a way that always left a smile on their faces. My Dad surely knew about ripples in a pond.
As time goes, and life proceeds, my Dad developed heart trouble and a pacemaker was installed. His health was up and down. I had just been attuned to Reiki and I gave him energy treatments. They helped. When he was in the hospital, I could see his oxygen level go up and he was very appreciative. I remember during one treatment, I said quietly to myself, “I don’t know if this is close to the end, Dad, but whatever you decide is okay with me and if you are choosing to go soon, I am willing to be with you, so you don’t have to go through it alone.”
One morning at work, I finished my tasks early and had an overwhelming urge to visit my Dad. So I asked my boss and he gave me the rest of the day off. I arrived while my Dad was having breakfast, so I joined him and we talked. He asked me to take him to the dentist for an appointment that day. My Mom was going shopping and he wasn’t allowed to drive himself yet. I was glad to do it and the appointment went well, Dad was still sharp as a tack and he even caught them in a billing error. When we got back to his house, we walked to the garage to find a card table I was going to borrow for a yard sale we were planning. As we passed the garden, I pointed out the impatiens, and asked if he had ever seen how they pop. When impatiens are ready to go to seed, they produce pods that swell until they reach a tipping point and then anything that touches it, the wind, a dog, a bug, your fingers, will set off a snap of exploding seeds that broadcast in all directions. He delighted in seeing it and said, “I learned something new today, well that’s good.”
What happened next, I wasn’t consciously prepared for, but then, on a higher level, I was. He stopped in mid-sentence, and began to fall toward me. I caught him and laid him down on the ground as gently as I could. His pacemaker was sending shocks to his heart to get it started again. I began CPR and continued as I called a man cutting grass nearby. I had him take over CPR while I ran into the house and called 911.
As I rode in the front seat of the ambulance, I looked back and the EMTs had stopped. I knew what that meant but they saw my face and went back to work. I knew what was happening. You see, as I knelt over his body, I could feel him leaving. Part of me was like, “Go, Dad, go” and the other was desperately trying to save him. Don’t ask me to explain it, but I felt that I was somehow supporting him, whatever he decided, even though I wished he would stay.
Following his death, I found coins everywhere, and wondered. I had a dream where we were in a field of wheat and I hugged him and it felt so good. One day I was particularly missing him and the phone rang and I heard a hoarse voice say “I can hear you” and I hung up because I thought it was a wrong number. Now, I realize it was Dad. It’s been 17 years now and I’ve had several dreams with my Dad. Every year on the anniversary of his death, I ask for some contact with him. Sometimes it would be a dream, sometimes a coin or something with meaning. Last year, I was sitting up in bed watching TV and felt a whoosh of energy fly by my head. I knew that was him. This year, I woke up and found an Angel from my Angel tree sitting on the table beside it. All this was a reminder that he did not really die, but in fact is still here, just in another form. I know my Dad has been helping to guide me, and I am so utterly grateful.
Communication with our loved ones takes place according to our comfort level. They don’t want to scare us, so they work diligently to give us signs and messages in a way that we can realize and accept. Most of their messages get missed, but if we open our minds a little, we can open up to a beautiful new relationship with them, one that traverses a line that we have always thought existed between our world and theirs. If we can become open to a concept that we never really die, just change form, then there is so much more that our loved ones can teach us from their higher perspective. Instead of getting muddled in depression and grieving, it would mean being in the moment, and finding the joy in it. Just like my Dad’s newspaper clipping said.
Here is a great video of two Moms of sons that have crossed over, both named Adam. They discuss unique and loving ways they spend the holidays and give tips and tools about grief. A very positive and uplifting video.