A Dad's Love

From: 
Story type: Angel
Location: Missouri
Source: Form Submission

About ten years ago, my father, after battling leukemia for a year, passed away. Prior to Dad being diagnosed with leukemia, I had been going through some pretty tough personal problems that my Dad had been helping me through. I was in the middle of a divorce, I had stopped seeing my mother because of her mental problems, and Dad was the glue that kept me together.

Needless to say, the bottom fell out when he was diagnosed. We sat outside of the hospital the day they diagnosed him, both of us just crying. He was the most incredible person, I loved him so much. During his illness, a couple of times he tried to talk to me about things he wanted me to have after he passed, and I couldn't let him talk, it was just too much.

Well, anyway, when the end came, he was in the hospital, and I was finally able to let him talk about dying. He said, it's close, kat, and I told him, I know, it's okay. You're going to a lot better place, you're going to be with Jesus soon. We both cried, and I fell asleep with my head on his bed, his hand in my hair.

Throughout all of his illness, he was talking to other family members, asking them, telling them, to keep an eye on me, because he was really worried the effect his death would have on me. He knew I was not close to my mother, he knew how much I depended on him, and he was trying to make sure other people would look after me when he was gone.

Two days before he died, he asked me, "do you see them?" I asked him, "who?" "The others, they're waiting for me." He pointed up the hospital ceiling and smiled. All I could do was squeeze his hand and smile back. He passed over 2 days later. I was holding his hand when he died, it was a peaceful passing, and very quick.

The nurses called the rest of the family, and we were at the hospital for another 2, 2 1/2 hours before we were able to go home. I was devastated. The whole family came to Dad's house, and all I remember thinking was that I just wished everyone would go away so I could sleep. I've always been the type to cry alone, and I just wanted to be left alone.

I made a graceful exit about 1/2 hour after we got home, telling the family I was just exhausted and needed to sleep. I went in my Dad's room and laid down, and of course, it didn't take long to sleep.

I remember waking up, my dad was laying beside me, with his arm around me, and I remember thinking that this wasn't possible. He started laughing. He told me that he was fine, and that he did not want me to worry about him, he WAS in a better place, and that I had to go on. We talked, but I never opened my mouth, it was like, all in our mind.

As I lay there, I looked at his arm, and it was like he was totally, physically there. I sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at him again, and he smiled. I said, when I get up, you're leaving, aren't you? And he just smiled again. I walked to the bedroom door and looked back at the bed, and he was starting to go transparent. I stopped, looked away again, and when I looked back the last time, he was gone.

I believe that God's love for us is ALWAYS there, ALWAYS constant, and for whatever reason, (whether it was out of Dad's concern for me, or God realizing how hard it would be to lose him) he allowed my dad to come back so I would be able to see that he was okay. I am so grateful to God for allowing my dad to see me one last time, to help me accept his passing over. And so grateful to my dad for coming back to ease my mind. Death is NOT the end, it's only the beginning.