journal of memories

JOURNAL OF MEMORIES » "THE LAST NIGHT"

I had this dream last night. I was in bed (in my dream) and I heard my mom and dad talking and laughing, which was impossible because even in my dream he had died a month ago. I got up, and sure enough, I yelled, "Daddy!" and gave him the biggest hug. I didn't know how he was there, but it didn't matter. I looked up at him and said, "Daddy, I don't want this to be just a dream." He said, "Oh, its okay Sweetie." and we continued to hug. "I'm so glad I got to hear your voice, I wanted to hear your voice again. I hope I dream about seeing you every night," I said. That was it. I'm telling you, God works in mysterious ways. Someone said to me right after my dad died, "In times like this, it is difficult to have faith." But once you here this story, you'll understand why I feel just the opposite. I warn you, this is an emotional story. Stop reading now if you don't think you can handle it...

It was Saturday, November 10th, 2001, and I had been gone all day with my grandmother, uncle, and his girlfriend at Skyline Drive. It was a beautiful day in the mountains. I came home around 9-something in the evening to see my brother and his girlfriend and my dad. The kitchen table was covered with used paper. My dad loved to practice his handwriting, and was proud of how elegant it looked. I must explain something before I get to the next part. When I was little, my dad and I would make scribbles on a piece of paper, and then he would turn it into something. An animal, a person, anything we thought we could make out of our scribble. Keeping in mind that we hadn't done this since I was probably seven or so, that night at the kitchen table, he said, "make a scribble." Of course I knew exactly what that meant, and we drew a few "scribble pictures" and laughed at how they turned out. By now I was standing and my brother took my chair, so I sat on my dad's lap (another thing I hadn't done since I was little) and he bounced me on his knee! He always used to do the, "Trot a little horsy down to town, giddy up, giddy up, don't fall down!" What memories... anyway, by now I was laughing my head off, as you can imagine, and almost 21-year-old being bounced on her dad's lap after drawing "scribble pictures."

He had just gotten a new stereo for his new truck. He was such a music lover and had played the drums in our basement all growing up, every night. He taught me how to sing harmonies when I was very young, and has always made music a big part of our lives. He was sad because he had just been laid off from his job just days before, and he wanted to sit out in his truck and listen to his music. So, he went outside, and soon after, I grabbed my coat and went outside too. He asked me what I was doing, and I said I wanted to join him, and I didn't want him to be alone. He said he wanted to be, so my eyes filled with tears and I started walking back inside. Of course he followed right after me, and we went to my room and talked for a few hours. Somehow all the right things came out of my mouth. I told him how much I loved him, and that we could not have a more perfect dad. He said he didn't know we felt that way, he was so glad to hear it. He was SO much fun, and I could go on with stories, but this one would never end. He talked to me about everything. Work, us, how much he and my mom were still so much in love after almost 30 years. It was the "perfect" conversation. He had said that he didn't really have anyone to talk to, and I said, "Daddy, I'm right here." He said he didn't realize he could talk to me so openly, and that he was looking forward to talking to me again. After our conversation, he went back out to his truck. Another thing I have to explain before I go on. My dad has always adored my singing voice. He has always wanted me to record a song in a studio. I've never thought that I've had any significant talent, but I guess dads are supposed to be that way. :) So anyway, a few months prior, I had recorded a CD of five songs, me singing, on my home computer. I had intended on giving him the CD for Christmas, but that night, I felt like he needed it right then. Without thinking, I got the CD, and brought it to his truck. I put it in, and the first song, embarrassingly enough, is "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. He said, "Awe..." I said, "Daddy, that's me!" He jumped a mile I think. His eyes opened up so wide, I could tell how excited he really was. I hadn't seen him that happy in a long time. We sat there listening to all five songs, as he constantly threw out compliments to me and once again wanting me to get into a recording studio. We went inside and said goodnight, and started parting our separate ways. He was glowing still thinking about the CD. He said, "In a few months, you'll be old enough to come with me to see bands play." I said, "Daddy, you mean in a few weeks!" Once again, he got excited, but he would never see that day. He died in his sleep that night.

So, Now you know why I said what I said earlier. Why it's not difficult at all to have faith at a time like this. Somehow I doubt that it's coincidence that my dad and I shared childhood memories once again, that all the right words came out of my mouth, all the things he needed to hear, and that I gave him that CD.