Dad’s parents were of German descent and immigrated to Canada in the late 1800s from Russia. They taught their eight children a strict set of moral standards. Dad was a very proud man and always told us kids that you have to keep your name clean.
He was community minded and was an avid sportsman with a passion for hunting and fishing. He loved to tell stories - he told them slowly, pausing often to reflect. When I was a teenager and a boy came to take me on a date Dad would often keep us standing in the doorway until he had finally finished regaling us with one of his stories. We would try to inch our way out the door, but there was no escape.
On Sunday mornings mom took the kids to church and dad stayed home. He would sit at the dining room table and play game after game of solitary with his worn deck of cards. The cards had tiny clumps of dirt stuck to them from his hardworking hands. He would put his beloved Johnny Cash record on and crank it up. I will always remember returning home from church and hearing that music for a few minutes before Mom shut it down. I think dad enjoyed his peaceful Sunday mornings. When I attended the Mother's Day Tea at the nursing home where mom lives there was a gentleman singing to the residents. When he sang the song Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash Mom perked up and sang along. I knew she was thinking about those Sunday mornings.
Dad took over his parent’s grain and cattle farm when he and mom got married in 1947. He loved it there and never wanted to leave. One of my favourite images is of him standing chest deep in his barley crop.
My dad taught me how to fish and took me hunting, but after one attempt to shoot a rabbit it became quickly evident that hunting wasn’t for me. He taught me to respect the land and wildlife, to be responsible and look after my belongings and to appreciate good cooking. He always thanked the cook by saying “thanks for the business” when he left the table.
It wasn't easy to draw anything deep and personal out of Dad. When I was in school I was preoccupied with sports and my friends and then I was married with children and life was busy. How I wish I would have sat down with him and asked him the same questions I have had the opportunity to ask mom. Questions about his childhood, his school days, his time in the army and his memories of meeting mom and falling in love. I would ask him to reflect on raising five children, farming and growing older.
Dad was ill for a number of years at the end of his life. Mom cared for him at home until the last ten days before he passed away in the hospital.
Here are three ways people often receive signs and messages from their loved ones and my personal experiences:
Messages Through Animals
When dad was in the hospital I was standing looking out the window of the waiting room towards a small hill and some bushes. A deer walked out of the bush and seemed to gaze at me for a long time before slowly turning and walking off into the distance. I stood there watching until I could no longer see it. A strange, unfamiliar feeling flooded through me in that moment. Dad passed away late that evening and I thought back to the feeling I had experienced earlier in the day.
Finding Certain Objects
Finding dimes in my path is a common occurrence for me. This reassures me that I am on the right path and that I am being looked out for by my dad.
Dream Visitations
Eight months after Dad passed I had a vivid dream in which a vehicle pulled into the yard at the farm and Dad got out of the back seat and walked across the yard. He looked in such good health it made me feel comforted to know he was alright.
Have you ever had experiences similar to mine?
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