Last night I was at my mom’s house when I saw the hearse pull up and park in the street. Two men dressed in black suits and tailored overcoats with matching black leather gloves stepped out and opened the back door of their vehicle. Perfectly orchestrated, they pulled out the coffin and wheeled it into the house and parked it in between the kitchen and dining room, just below the last professional photo of my parents when my dad was able to walk with the aid of a cane. From the corner of the living room, I continued to watch the men in the black suits open the coffin. From a distance, I could see my dad lying there.
Questions flooded my mind, but the most predominate was to know why they brought my dad from the cemetary back to the house he hadn’t resided in since December 2008. I lost track of the men in the black suits as I was focused on my dad as he sat up and said, “Hey!!!” while I exclaimed “Yay!!!” and clapped my hands like a child watching a magic trick.
My dad moved elegantly out of the coffin and stood up as I ran to give him the type of hug I would expect to give him when we met in heaven. His skin was soft and flawless and his hug was gentle and warm. I couldn’t believe he was back and I was the only person in the house that got to see him. Just as I was about to talk to him, I became distracted by a constant beeping noise. Oh the discouragement, frustration and bad timing as I realized I was only dreaming and the constant beeping noise was common during the night at my house. Our microwave is old and, for no apparent reason, will flash the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4 while beeping at each number and we usually take turns getting out of bed to make it stop.
Dad, I miss you, but it was nice to see how healthy you are now. Thanks for the visit.