My Father Knew Best
Remembering & Feeling His Omnipresence
My dads birth date, June 16th, was immediately followed by Fathers Day. The placement (in his case) was unfortunate. We routinely shortchanged him by combining gifts.
This year, dad would have turned 92. I’m writing this post to keep his memory alive. He’s probably reading it over my shoulder. Dad transitioned to a non-earthly plane 5 years ago. Note: I didn’t say he was in heaven. That’s because he’s likely hovering closeby.
Dad sent a sign, not long after we said our final farewell to let me know he’s still around. His mantra,“Don’t Quit,” reverberates in my thoughts. Even death couldn’t conquer his spirit. His resolve is deeply embedded in my DNA. It dictates my propensity to work through shitty situations.
But I digress. Just months after dad’s departure, he dispatched an earthly emissary as a nod to his existence. On the flip side, he briefly appeared in my daughter’s dream to let her know he was still on the lookout.
For the Record: My mind is open to possibility. I had an inkling that my father wasn’t gone. I knew for certain after my daughter shared a strange story. I smile because, even death can’t stop him from shuffling situations. He’s just operating from a separate spiritual space.
Before sharing our overlapping familial experience the December 2019, issue of Oprah’s oprahmag.com created a frame for the concept.
“I believe in signs. They fill me with wonder. Because I know for sure: Each and every one of us is part of a Life force. We don’t have a life. We are Life, expressed in human form. And we’re in a state of perpetual evolution through our individual and collective consciousness. Everything is in order, as Life is constantly telling us. If you’re tuned in, you recognize the signs everywhere. You see how one thing is connected to everything.” — Oprah Winfrey
Judge & Jury
Not long after dads death (via a volunteer opportunity) I met a man who owned the largest baseball game website in the USA. My father, had created a baseball ⚾️ board game and sold it to buyers at Sears and K-Mart stores in the 1980’s. That mention caused the man to pull up his website. Three of dad’s games were stocked in the vintage section.
While staring at him in disbelief, the man explained that he’d met dad 40 years earlier at the Toy Fair in New York City. I’m sure dad stuck out like a sore thumb… for obvious reasons. The guy recalled having a lengthy conversation with my dad, which would have been par for the course.
I was still in a state of shock. Then the next statement blew me away. He said it was the darndest thing that he was there. Though he’d never before judged a business competition he felt compelled to help. So, he went on a volunteer match site. The electronic result was the reason we were sitting next to each other. I swore I heard my dad laughing. That was my sign!
An Ethereal Experience
My daughters dog, is likely the only grandchild I’ll ever have. After a long struggle with illness, the humane option was euthanization. We pushed it off for two years, defying the vets advice. For the record, he was 16 years old. His name was BJ… after my daughter. It was short for Brittany Junior.
The last day we had together, BJ could no longer stand. He lay on the floor and stared blankly ahead. I knew the trip to the vet was inevitable. So, I propped him up on pillows in his dog stroller and took him for one last walk. It was a beautiful breezy day, and BJ lifted his head slightly to sniff the air.
All of a sudden, I felt a rush of love and gratitude. I could feel my dad’s presence in the wind. When we got back to the driveway, the tears just started falling. My daughter was away on a business trip. I wanted to wait for her to get home, but I couldn’t stand for BJ to spend another minute in his semi-catatonic state.
What I didn’t know was that Brittany was in the air on her way home. She’d finished early and called me shortly after landing at O’Hare. She called to ask about her dog. She’d fallen asleep in her seat and had been awakened by a vision of BJ running down a hall toward my father. A dam of tears broke for the second time that evening. I told her the timing was uncanny. She must have woken up from the dream at the exact moment when BJ closed his eyes.
I remember the time because I glanced at the clock on the wall after the toxin was administered. When the vet left the room, I rubbed BJ’s head. I said, “You know your mommy loves you and she would have been here if she could.” Then I told him, he was the best boy ever. Finally, as his eyelids were closing I whispered for him to go find my father.
My daughter’s call was the second sign. I’m fascinated with these types of stories? Wondering if you have one? If so, please share it and tag me.