Messages From Beyond: Keeping In Touch With Dad
I’ve been talking to my dad almost from the moment he passed away back in July of 2012. To be clear, I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and it made perfect sense to me to stay in touch with him no matter where (or when) he was.
In my last post, I mentioned that I had given a message from Dad to my mom, and she had actually followed through with it and given me the items
he said she had of his that he told her she should sell “to have a more comfortable life in her old age.” (He might have referred to her as an old crow, but we won’t mention that part, and I surely didn’t tell her that either!) I’m looking for an antique dealer locally now who deals in books to see if I can get a good price for her. Seems Dad had a nice little collection of antique Bibles, the oldest from the early 1800s, just put away for safekeeping. So those rode back to my apt with me that evening, and now I’m looking to make a good deal for Mom.
This story, though, concerns a friend and her dad. A good friend of mine’s dad was in the hospital recently and had been seemingly talking to dead family members for several days. I don’t know if you’re aware, but it’s rather frequently thought that the fairly common phenomenon of someone who is very sick talking to family members who have passed away seems to be a sign that said person is very likely not far from Death’s door themselves. Personally, I have not seen someone who did it that wasn’t gone within a week until now.
My friend was, of course, very concerned for her dad, and for whatever reason, it came to my mind that I would ask my dad to sit with and comfort her dad while he was in the state of potentially being able to see and/or speak with him. So I did that, and I related to my friend that it was my intention to try to have my dad come to visit her dad in the hospital. I told her when she went in to sit with him that night to ask him if he had met my dad and gave her his name so she could ask him. We laughed about it and said our goodbyes.
Later that evening, my friend messaged me and told me that she had asked her dad if he had met my dad and told him his name. He replied that YES! He had met someone by that name, and he was still here! He said he’s about the same age as me and has white hair! Which…my dad was born in ‘42, and hers was born in ‘43, so that was true. And my dad did have white hair from around the age of 25, so that was true as well. But that could be true of many people, so she just smiled and told him to have fun and sat down to read for a while. Not long after that, she messaged me again.
“Hey! Something strange just happened. Dad laughed and said what sounded like ‘mercury turkey’ and then laughed some more. Does that mean anything to you?” I had to laugh myself, and then I explained that many Thanksgivings ago, my mother and her sister, in their impatience to check the doneness of our turkey right out of the oven rather than waiting for dad to get back with a meat thermometer, had stuck a regular old thermometer into the turkey. It had burst as a result, shooting bits of glass and mercury into one side of the turkey. I went on to relay that they had tried to cut off the “bad” side and make us eat the other half anyway(!) and that it stank and we refused to eat it, so it had to be thrown away.
I sat for a moment and sent a silent “thank you” out to my dad because it was very clear in that story that he was indeed there with her dad.
For a while after that, my friend continued to tell me things her dad would say and then laugh about. Each time, it was related to something that had happened in my family or various things that I personally had done as a child, but all were amusing in some way. I would tell her the full story that went with each comment her dad made so she would get to hear what he had heard. After a while, we had to marvel at the apparent fact that my dad was indeed comforting and entertaining her dad by telling him our funny family stories.
My friend’s dad went on to recover, as he had been getting sicker due to an infection that it turned out was being improperly treated. Once it was determined he was on the wrong medication and he was switched to the correct medication for his condition, he recovered and was able to feel better. He also lost the “ability” to talk to dead family members, so this was comforting to my friend and me as well.
Even though my dad isn’t here with me now physically, I know he is just as close as a thought away. I love my dad and have always been a daddy’s girl, and to me, this showed me that he’s there for me and my trust and love are always returned, even from beyond the grave.
Love you, Dad!
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