After my father died, I was mourning pretty hard. One particular day, I was working in my yard and crying and panicking and just really being a jerk. That night, I had a dream. I was in an apartment watching a parade go by my window, talking with my mom on the phone and complaining about the lack of floats. All of a sudden, the lighting seemed to change and I heard footsteps walking up the stairs. I turned, and there stood my father.

He looked great, appeared to be about fifty and was in his favorite Levis, green flannel shirt, L.L.Bean khaki jacket and his cowboy boots. He was standing there shaking his keys in his fingers, but he had his typical squinty-eyed stare and smile. I could tell he was annoyed with me but still happy to see me. I got the message loud and clear - "Stop being a pain in the ass, Patty, and get over it!"

I yelled "DAD!" and ran over to him. I could feel him hugging me, but then I guess I really yelled because my fiancé woke me up. The poor guy thought I was having a bad dream. Well, I yelled at him. I told him I had been with my dad, and why did he wake me up?

My father had not believed in life after death while he was alive, but his appearance in my dream changed everything. After that, all my panic ended. I don't get that weird feeling in my gut when I think about death and the concept of being gone forever. It used to get me every time, but now it makes me laugh. I know that we are who we are, and "we" don't die.

Patty Erickson
Please respond to: John

Posted Feb. 4, 2010