Sunday, July 16, 2006


I got word that Dad was back home. Shocked, I flew home, and sure enough he was. He was sitting at the dining room table, looking more-or-less normal as anything. He was a lot bigger than the last time I saw him, and a lot stronger. He had more energy, and he breathed a lot easier. I did do a double-take when I saw him though, but it wasn't because of all that.

He had hair. His receding hairline was still present, but he had enough hair to do a flat-top. Keep in mind that, aside from photographs, Dad with hair is something I have never seen before.

His congestive heart failure was completely gone. His need for medication was out the window. He did have to use a cane, and that was simply because he had been dead long enough that he was still stiff, but even that was going away.

The next thing I remember, Dad and I were walking towards Town East Mall (a local shopping mall in Mesquite). I had two obvious questions welling up inside of me, but, out of respect, and because I didn't want to sound like some sort of freak-o medium, I held off. When I couldn't take it anymore, I asked the first one.

I asked him if he could tell me anything from beyond the grave. What was death like? Had he gone to heaven? If so, why did he come back (not to sound cruel, but I imagine that heaven is a lot better than earth)? What was judgment like?

One thing that I remember from all the way back when I was really young: I've always been afraid of Dad. He was the punisher of the family, the really strict one. Up until I went to college, I was always afraid of him, and even when I came back from college, he had a very commanding presence, one that I always feared.

In retrospect, up until I went to college, I never really knew how much Dad loved me, or how much I returned that love. Nothing changed before I went to college, during my time at Christendom, nor post-graduation. He was always Dad. I just began to take notice of the fact that Dad was strict because he loved me, instead of being strict just for the sake of it.

He looked at me with his normal look. In my youth, I would have been scared that I had said something wrong. Now I didn't see anything like that. He told me very plainly that he will not reveal to me what is not my place to know. When I die is when I will find out what death is like, what judgment is like, and then where I will go.

He also told me that I'm not doing what I need to do. What it is I need to do, he didn't say.

The third thing he told me was a bit of a kicker: Stop drinking soda. It'll kill you.

I laughed out loud at the third one. Although I didn't doubt it, I was a bit taken aback by the fact that it was one of the things that he had to tell me.

My second question was this: How is it that he came back to life and got out of his casket? "Well, son, you see, there are motion sensors and life sensors within any coffin. Mine was equipped with them as well. As soon as I started moving, the alert was sent out, and the casket was brought back up in less time than I had to realize my situation and start panicking." I was surprised by this answer, because I didn't see any sensors, or anything else that could do such a job, and I did get a decently good look at the casket. I was about to ask him to get into the scientific details of how they could place a sensor inside a coffin like that, and then get it to transmit a signal through that much earth, but then I woke up.

I'm such a geek, even in my dreams...

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