My Journey And My Dad's Last Lesson

My day started out like any other day. I got up, and I got ready and went to work. Nothing eventful happened that I can recall on my way to work. No strange feelings or missed stop signs happened while I was driving there. Just your regular Joe average kind of day. Or so I thought.

"We're going for our coffee break, you coming?" asked one of my work colleagues. "Nah, It's too early. I'll go later" I replied. And off they went, the group of them leaving me alone. I admit there was no strange feeling like I should or shouldn't go with them. Everything was fine, and I proceeded to get on with my work. There I was planning out strategy, full engrossed in my train of thought. And that's when my normal day turned to something else.

"I'm sorry, Ang. I love you." I heard like an echo, as a wave of feeling crashed over me. It was my Dad, and he was 'talking' to me. Strange, was my first reaction. One second I am standing there formulating a plan, and the next I am overcome by a pressure. Or rather a sensation of pressure and I felt my mental self being pushed to the left while my Dad came through loud and clear in my head. My stomach dropped and I felt sick immediately. And that's when I knew it was true. My heart squeezed painfully and tears came to my eyes. ' No this can't be' I thought to myself. I was then being forced to tear myself away from these sensations to continue to hear what was being relayed to me. While my brain grappled with this, my body seemed frozen in the position of writing down a plan on the whiteboard we used, arm raised and marker at a ready stance. I had fallen into a rabbit hole of sorts. This couldn't be happening I reasoned with myself. My dad lived 3500km away and he was there, in my head! He apologized again and my heart and stomach fell further with the knowledge of what this meant. I found myself answering back. "It's okay Dad, You can go. I love you too." So strong is the emotion connected with this that even today, I well up and overflow with tears. Upon my utterance, I felt a release from the connection and whether it's my imagination or not, I swear I heard a sigh. My body felt like a gong had been rung and the vibrations were echoing through me. I felt disorientated and the fluorescent lights felt overly bright and harsh making my eyes hurt. My mind was reeling with what just happened. I turned to look around, to see if anyone else had noticed my strange behavior. The room, which normally has at least 6 people working in it was completely empty, and I was all alone. How could this be? Did it really happen? What just happened would be the better question. And before I could figure anything out, make some sort of sense of it, the phone started to ring. And somehow I knew it was for me. I just knew, and I felt dread at the thought that I would now find out for sure.

I took a deep breath and willed my body to move. The walk to the phone at the other end of the room was like walking through a tunnel. So long did it feel that I wondered how long it was really taking me, and if the caller would hang up before I got there. The logical side of me gave my mental butt a boot. Get a hold of yourself before you answer that phone. What if it's just someone with a mundane question? I took a deep breath and ignored the turning vortex of my churning stomach. I took another deep breath through my nose so I wouldn't vomit and I picked up the receiver. My first attempt to say hello came out as a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again using my will power to push my body to say hello with a semblance of normalcy. " Hello, Angela speaking" I managed to croak out. The caller stuttered and I could feel the mental wheels turning on the other end of the phone. " Ang?" came the cry on the other end. It was my mother, who never calls me at work. She faltered and said my name again with a sense of wonder attached. "Angie?"

"It's okay Mom I already know." I said trying to make this easier for her. Tears started to flow down my face like a tap had turned on. " I already know, Mom" I repeated with finality. "What, but How? Did your sister call you?" she asked bewildered. "No." I stated. I could feel the confusion, and I didn't really know how to fix this without telling the truth. I felt a wave of embarrassment at the thought of trying to explain what I knew to be true and looking like I had lost my marbles. This was too important of a time to be worried about what people think. I told my ego to shove it and attempted to explain, making no sense and stumbling over my words and crying at the same time.

My dad had passed away from complications of kidney failure and diabetes. And he loved me enough to say goodbye. What more is there to be said? I have shaken all doubt and I have to tell you that I am not afraid of dying. What I am afraid of is dying before I get to chance to do, see and love all that I wish to experience. In fact, to me it will be like finally going home. Not that I'm in any hurry to get there.

I don't come by this belief due to any religion or following. It comes to me from knowing what my true-life purpose is on this earth. And even though I hadn't faced up to the calling at the time of my Dad's passing, what happened helped me along that journey. I am of the belief that we all have a spirit or energy, and that love is a big part of that. I am not making any claims here. I am not asking you to jump up and believe in me, or believe in what I can tell you to be true. I am just asking that you have an open mind. To contemplate that there is more to life than just what we see with our own eyes. And to never lose faith, for our loved ones truly are waiting for us.