I believe that we all have the capacity to be in tune and be aware. Sometimes this comes in a simple knowing that something in our life needs to change, thinking of someone and bumping into them a few hours later, or having vivid dreams. It is our consciousness speaking to us and it is powerful when we listen.
My dad had been sick for a couple of months and I knew his life was near ending. For the last few weeks I was aware that he was slipping away. Each night before I went to bed I would speak to him–soul to soul–and assure him that it was okay to go.
Yesterday was the death anniversary of my former husband and father of my children. Each year I take my kids out for dinner to honor him for being their father and sharing the creation of our little tribe. Last night, I fell into a deep sleep where I slipped into a dream where I was watching a home movie of my first wedding to my kids father. In the video, my stepmom was looking to my dad and saying “Larry, Larry, look!…Larry look”. He was not visible in the dream.
I woke with a startle and a deep, deep knowing that he was going to die today. I spoke out loud, “my dad is going to die today”.
A few hours ago, I got the call that he was gone. The knowing that I so strongly had gives me great peace that we were connected in his final moments. He was there, but not there–much like my life with him.
I am glad that I had the closure I needed years ago and have come to peace with what was. Because of that I can recall with a fond heart so many things; the camping trips and snowmobile runs, just going into the post office and smelling the environment can still remind me of him coming home from work smelling like an office with lots of paper, the afternoons of lying around eating doritos out of the bag while playing Uno, learning how to lay beans in the rows each spring and having the big responsibility of covering up them up with soil, catching fish early in the morning while everyone else was sleeping and feeling such pride that we were the only ones who could usually catch a fish, watching him create stain glass, hours and hours of ping-pong tournaments, summer putt putt golf, afternoon movies, shoe shopping, the smell of burgers he grilled to perfection, fried chicken after church, standing on his back learning to balance, my first solo snowmobile run, the new blue banana seat bicycle and the day my brother got caught convincing me that eating grasshoppers was okay. All good memories.
I know for sure that he is in awe of what is in front him now. Now I am the one saying, “look dad, look”.