Monday: Miracles Happen

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On Saturday night, I told you of my conversation with my invisible father, asking him why he came around, if he wasn’t going to show himself, and I surmised that he did that to spite me, for reasons we know about each other.

On Sunday I got up and his energy was gone. I went about my life. Sunday night I went to bed, thinking about him. But I slept well and not disturbed.

Today, Monday, I had a full day of running errands, grocery shopping and unpacking. I did some earlier writing about some of my concerns with the gender changes to our National Anthem. I am not pleased at all.

Honor – Respect – Dignity and Memory …

If we strip those things from all that we hold sacred as a nation, then what ?

In the evening, before I had to get ready to go out for the evening, around 4 o’clock, I went to take a nap until 6. My dreams usually follow a predictable path.

It takes me a while, unassisted, to get to sleep on my own. But once I get to sleep, I sleep for the duration. And almost always, my Technicolor dreams come at the tail end of a sleep cycle.

If someone is going to ring my phone, as ALWAYS happens, that damned phone rings at the most inopportune moments, as a dream is hitting its climactic end. And usually, I always miss the END. All the time.

It never fails.

Today, I was in a dream. Talking about clothes, as I was standing in front of my closet door, which is next to my bed. I was talking away to whomever was there, and like a lightning flash, unannounced and without fanfare, my FATHER appears in front of me in corporeal form.

Color me shocked !

I looked at his face. I reached out and I embraced him. I heard him speak to me, saying that he was sorry.

I was besides myself really.

In a flash, he turned and was gone. And I shot out of bed like a maniac.

He returned. He came back. After I mused as to why he was even here to begin with.

I got showered and hit the meeting. On the walk back to the station, I Face Timed my aunt in Florida. The first words out of my mouth were, “I saw my father.”

As I walked along the sidewalk I was sobbing uncontrollably.

It was the second time I cracked. The first time was when I called one of my cousins and said the words … “My father is dead.”

We both agreed that he really had no purpose in coming back to me after the way he treated me in this life. Yet, I know God forgave him everything, and I needed to forgive him everything as well.

I saw my father. In corporeal form.

I can go on now.

I am free…

Sunday Sundries: Visitation

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My father died over a month ago, on January 7th. I have not dreampt about him, or even thought about seeing him return to me, in one form or another. I am the seer in the family. Most of my relatives have come back to me.

My father, on the other hand, is a different story.

However …

For the past few nights, I’ve felt an oppressive dark pall hovering in the apartment. I could not quite figure out what it was, but it was weighing me down. I could feel it, so it had to be there. Since I had not spiritually summoned my father to visit me, I did not think he would make the effort to visit.

I have posed the thoughts to the universe about all those questions I did have about him in posts, already written. Last night, as I went to bed, and closed my eyes, I was not feeling myself. My ears were ringing and I had a headache that would not go away. I took some Tylenol before crawling into bed. I could feel that darkness hanging in the room.

I realized that my father had been hanging around. He would not show himself to me, I could not see him, like I have seen other family who returned. But I figured that he was there. It would be just like him to hang about in the shadows and not really allowing for me to see him properly. So in the dark, he remained in the dark, to my eyes.

As I closed my eyes to sleep, I said to him, in my heart and mind, that I knew he was here and that I felt his presence. I told him that he needed to go … That he had no place returning and haunting me. I forgave him and told him not to return to my home ever again. That I did not need to see him, nor did he need to see me.

Yet he came anyways. Why did he want to see me now, when in his life, he had no desire to see me or acknowledge my existence? Did he need some spiritual forgiveness from me that I actually speak those words to him now, in his present form?

As soon as I had that conversation in my mind’s eye to him, the energy began to dissipate and I went to sleep. This morning I got up and the energy was gone. It would have been nice to see him corporeally, but he was here, nonetheless.

This is the only photo I have of my father, from his Face Book Account.

Forgiveness is about freeing us of the pain that others have done to us. In that forgiveness, it does not absolve the “other” of what they have done to us, but forgiveness allows us to move on with our lives, no longer carrying that old pain around like rocks in a sack, hanging over our shoulders.

There is a story about a woman, who survives the Holocaust. She lived in Berlin, after the war. One day she was walking down the street and a strange man approached her and spoke to he quite confidently …

Corrie, do you not recognize me ?

After a few moments of contemplation, she did …

The man was a guard in the concentration camp she was sent to. He had killed her mother and other family members in front of her. She knew who he was …

He begged her forgiveness.

In that moment, she denied him forgiveness, and sent him away from her, not so gently.

In the ensuing months, our woman found Faith, God and the Savior.

It happened a second time, that those two humans met on the street.

Our woman had found forgiveness. In her new-found faith, she realized the gift of forgiveness, in the end, she did forgive that man, so she could go on with her life, no longer carrying around that rock of pain around her neck.

At some point, we need to Sink Into God. And to allow Him to help us become the men and women we are meant to be. One cannot be faithful to God, and keep that part of us that feels pain, in the darkness, from God.

Turning it over, is a 100% proposition.

If you only allow light to be shed on part of you and not all of you, then why bother, if you aren’t willing to bring to the light, all of you?

I am all about The Light.

See the Light, Be the Light.

I’ve spent my life, studying family and I’ve been visited several times over by my grandmothers, and my grandfather. They all returned to me. I have concrete proof of their visitations. I know within myself that they exist on the spiritual plane.

I don’t know where that gift came from, or from whom it came from, but I have the eyes to see it. Because I would not be able to speak about it if it did not happen.

We all have gifts, spiritual gifts, we just need to open that eye to see them.