I was my
"daddy's baby." I was 33 years old, happily married, and the
mother of two young children. When the phone rang that fateful Thursday
afternoon on October 13, 1983, I knew it was bad news. As soon as I
heard Momma's voice I said, "What's wrong…it's Daddy, isn't it?"
She had come in from town and found him slumped over in the back yard with a
stoke.
The next few
days were a total blur, days and nights spent at the hospital, then his
impending death. I am thankful that I did get to the hospital in time to
talk to him before his coma came upon him, and I got to tell him again how
very much I loved him.
The
following days were so hard, and the weeks to come. I was suffering and
finding it so hard to find relief from the deep grief and loss that I felt, no
matter how much I asked for God's strength and no matter the amount of comfort
my husband and friends tried to offer me. I just couldn't manage!
Then one day it happened….
It was two
weeks after his death when I was lying on my couch crying and grieving and
reading my Bible and praying for relief. I had extremely strong faith.
I told God that I couldn't do it alone, that I had to have His help to get
through this. That's when the sleep overcame me.
I remember
carefully laying my Bible down, still turned to the scriptures I'd been
reading about "…in my Father's house are many mansions…"
Then the
dream started. That's all I knew to call it, but I believe in my heart
that it was much more. In my "dream" I "knew" my
daddy was gone, but I also "knew" that God was granting me THREE
HOURS to visit with Daddy. I would get to hug him and talk to him and
ask him some of the questions that seem to come up in daily living…you know
the kind, such as, "Daddy, what did you tell me I need to do about"
this or that sort of thing. You know, the kind of questions we are used
to picking up the phone and calling to ask. Only thing is, we go to the
phone sometimes before it "hits" us that we can't call and ask
anymore!!
The visit
was to take place at their house, over an hour's drive from where we lived.
I don't remember how I got there at all, but the visit and the comfort derived
from it is as clear to me as though it happened YESTERDAY.
I remember
walking onto their front porch and entering the room where he was sitting in
"his" chair. I "knew" only Daddy and I would be
there alone. I bent down and hugged him so tightly like always, and I
remember saying to him, "Daddy, you feel sooooo good…you feel so
WARM!"
He truly
did, and I remember it so very clearly to this day! I walked over to the
couch facing him and we talked and talked and talked.
There were
no tears shed, for it was not a time of sadness, but a precious GIFT to have
this special time to fall back on for the rest of my life! I knew it was
something very, very exceptional and especial, and I savored every second of
the visit. We did not discuss death, we discussed LIVING and proclaimed
our love and deep affection, and the things going on in my life, my dreams and
hopes, and more. It was the most beautiful moments in my life, having
that special time with my daddy when I knew it was something that does not
happen in most lifetimes. I hugged him again when I knew it was
"time," and without regret I bid him farewell. No tears, no
worries. Just comfort. I was finally able to let go and move on.
I awoke
feeling very refreshed and very "alive" for the first time in two
weeks! I immediately picked up my phone and called my minister and told
him exactly what had just taken place…all of it, from me getting sleepy and
placing the Bible on the floor beside where I lay on the couch, to the essence
of the visit. I told my minister the peace I was feeling, and I asked
him what he thought of all of this. He said to me, "Rita, don't
question it, just consider it a gift from God."
I have never
had anything like this happen in my life before or since, but I have carried
the peace of it with me all these years. I was finally able to "let
go," but it was only through the grace of God!
