My father’s ghost

I’m in a park – green, big trees – and I turn and suddenly I see my father, standing there under a tree.

I can’t believe my eyes. It’s been so long since he died – ten years or more.

“Dad! Dad!” I call, running towards him, holding out my arms.  I feel such joy, such relief, such love for him.

He looks at me – and is gone.

I wake up.  I find myself crying in the arms of a man who’s ill-treated me, with whom I’m in the process of splitting up.

Maybe it was a visit from the other side.  More probably, just a dream.   I think at some primal level, I needed a protector at that moment.  I wished my dad was still around, so he could stand tall over that evil man, tell him sternly ‘You just stop hurting my little girl!’ – and maybe punch him in the nose so he’d fall down snivelling and bleeding, and then creep away never to disrespect me again.  Or maybe it really was Dad popping in to say, it’s alright, I’m still here in a manner of speaking, and you’ll be ok.  But then, he wasn’t any more, so I had to stand up for myself, and I did, as ‘orphaned’ adults must.  I miss my Dad but!

Have you ever had anything similar happen to you?

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About turnipsforbreakfast

Rose has two blogs, www.butimbeautiful.wordpress.com, and www.turnipsforbreakfast.wordpress.com. Enjoy!
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10 Responses to My father’s ghost

  1. Carrie Rubin says:

    What an experience that must have been: strange, wonderful, confusing, powerful—all of the above, I’m sure.

  2. I know the feeling of loss and disappointment you felt. I suppose your father came to you when you needed him most. To give you some comfort. ❤ ❤ ❤

    I haven't had such an experience, although I sometimes hear my mother call my name and when I turn towards the voice am disappointed she isn't there. At those moments, I forget she is gone.

    • I sometimes think he did come, yes. Although I just can’t believe in an afterlife, part of me still does. Maybe your mum does call you. It must be frustrating, if there is an afterlife, to try to get your loved one to pay you some attention when you’re basically invisible.

      • It takes a long, l.o.n.g. time. I believe the difference is accepting, but I after 4-1/2 years I still can’t get my head around it.
        What about you, Rose?

      • Around the afterlife? or around the death of parents? I don’t know. I guess pretty much as soon as my parents died I was basically ok with it, which sounds awful. Only I do live in the moment, not by choice exactly but by nature. But then every now and again it hits me, I will never see these dear people again. Like everyone, I regret that I didn’t cherish them more. I don’t think we, as humans, can get our heads around death. All that striving, and then – phut!

  3. That’s quite sad. My parents are still about. Feel silly trying to offer comfort as an anonymous faceless snippet of text, but good luck, thinking of ya!

    • Thanks Treat. It was ages ago, no need to feel bad on my behalf. Both my parents are dead now, it happens eventually (if you’re lucky – it would be horrible to be dead before them). But they were dear to me.

  4. I grew up in a family (of aunties and older female relatives) who were always seeing and talking to ghosts. Whether they were sitting at the foot of the bed, hovering over a pot of soup or gathering herbs on a moonlit night, I was always hearing stories of them.
    These women strongly believed in searching for the strength in those visits. I’ve yet to have one, but I’m almost looking forward to when it’s my turn to “see.”

    • I can imagine you would be! How exciting! I’ve never been able to see anything non-material (and I’m very unobservant on that front too). I’d love to meet a ghost (suitably chaperoned).

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