I woke up this morning thinking about my father. For those of you that don't know, I lost my father two years ago after a year-long battle with leukemia. He was really brave and faced the end of his life with a lot of quiet dignity and strength...much like how he lived his life. Whenever I would ask him how he was feeling, I would get one of two responses. "I'm okay" or "I'm not too good today". He rarely would elaborate or complain about his health but seeing how listless the leukemia and chemotherapy made him on his bad days spoke volumes. The fact that he outlived the first diagnosis he received (3-6 months) twice over still amazes me and is testament to his inner strength and determination.
Dad rarely attended mass, and when he did we often would joke how surprised we were that the church didn't fall in on him. But the way he lived his life was 10 times more Christian-like than many of the church-going folks I know. He was a generous and kind man who time after time reached out to help others with no thought of what he would get in return. It was only after his death that I learned about more than one "loan" that was never repaid to him (I learned this because my mother, while also leading a Christian life, wasn't quite as amiable as my dad was). I often wondered during that year if Dad thought about the afterlife that was awaiting him. I wish I had spoken to him about it but that wasn't the kind of relationship he and I had (Unfortunately, I inherited his tendency to avoid talking about emotional issues).
I believe that my Dad's soul (like everyone's soul) had lessons to learn in this lifetime and that now he is free to watch over all of us. Despite this belief, I haven't really called on him much during these past two years even though I know he has helped me. When I received a job interview with my current school district, I had reached the point where I thought I was going to HAVE to move in order to get a teaching job. My last lucid conversation with my father centered around him telling me not to worry because a teaching position was going to come up. So when I actually got the job, I knew to thank him because in my heart I just knew he was the one behind making that happen. But beyond thanking him for watching over us, I really haven't "prayed" to his spirit. But that changed yesterday after I read a short article on spirituality and receiving signs from our loved ones who have passed on.
I have always considered ducks (especially ones with baby ones near by) to be signs from my dad that he is around due to seeing a family of ducklings coming out of his backyard on the day of his funeral. Rabbit families also make me think of my dad because of his "relationship" the last year of his life with a rabbit in his backyard. So, I feel my dad has sent me signs but I've never really asked him for a sign...until last night. I asked my father to send me a sign if the answer to my question was "yes" (I'd rather not share the question...some things are private between a father and daughter). I asked him to have me dream about a butterfly if the answer to my question was yes. The article I read also said to ask your loved one to wake you up immediately after the dream so that you could remember the dream. So, I did that as well and went off to sleep.
When I awoke around 3 a.m. with the memory of a big black butterfly with blue and lavender spots flying right in the middle of a school dream (i.e. anxiety dream), I was shocked! I knew that my emotionally reticent father had found a way to not only send me a sign but to bolster my self confidence a bit. Now, I know that some nonbelievers out there may say that the butterfly was in my subconscious and that's why I dreamt of it. To be honest, the thought crossed my mind as well. But I feel deep in my heart, once again, that my father spoke to me.
I've already thanked him for his message and plan on reaching out to him again. It doesn't make the sting of living the rest of my life without him any less painful. But it does remind me that we are all souls living this brief time in our bodies, and that no matter what I still have my father with me. Thanks again, Daddy. I love you.
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