“He’s Gone, Missy, He’s Gone.” Melissa Dow

Today is November 27, 2012. I look back in my journal for stories to share and see that it is one year to the day that God gave me a most profound ‘vision’. It began a cycle of seeing that I had not ever previously experienced and I am still in awe. I will tell you that story, along with all the others, but I am trying to follow the sequence of situations in which God stepped right out in front of me so that I could feel him near and almost see his face.

There are several glimpses into the eternal that I was given over a period of a few years. Here they are in sequence.

August, 1981. “Missy, he’s gone. Your dad had a massive heart attack tonight and he’s gone.” My mother’s best friend’s voice flat and sad on the other end of the telephone.  Dad was 54 years old, younger than I am now. Oh my God-my Daddy’s dead. A wave of heat and nausea flooded over me and I sank to my knees on the cold tile of the kitchen floor, collapsing in grief—and rage. My husband was at Confirmation camp with a bunch of church kids a couple of hours away. This was prior to the omnipresent cellular phone. I had to reach him via emergency contact of the camp’s maintenance man.

Alone in the house, I wandered down the hall, trance-like, to our room where I began to grab clothes for the trip home to Mom. All the while I was holding a one-sided conversation with my dad, I guess of all the things that I wish I had told him sooner. It was then that my anger at his passing became evident. “WHY did you go Daddy? You will never even see any children that we might have. Why would you do this? Why would you leave Mama? What will she do?” I continued to shove clothes into the suitcase with no rhyme or reason. It was then that I sensed the room change. Something was different. Something in the way the air felt. It was thicker somehow, the air. I sensed a presence right near the door leading to the hallway. “Daddy,is it you? Please let it be you. Did you come to say goodbye?” At that moment, hearing with my heart, he said “Sis, I’m o.k. now. I don’t hurt anyore. I wanted you to know. And your mother—she’ll be fine. I’m going now, but you’ll see me again soon—if you pay attention.”

Amid funeral plans and out of town relatives, I was too busy to focus on seeing my dad but it was a day shortly before the funeral that my husband and I were driving past the funeral home, a big old white house along the river. The parking lot was in the back facing the street on which we were traveling. Just as we approached to pass that spot, I saw a man, leaning on an old Buick. He was wearing grey dress slacks and a white button down collar dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He wore glasses and had red hair. It was my Dad. Everything about him-his clothes, glasses, haircut, right down to the pipe he was smoking-Dad never went anywhere without that pipe. Everything about this man was my dad. I was sure that I was seeing things. After we passed that spot, a minute later I asked my husband, ”Did you just see something strange back there in the parking lot of the funeral home?” He looked at me and said that he thought, too, that he was going crazy. He, too, had seen my dad.

Now, this man that I married is a realist. He is not prone to crazy visions. However, he told me after this incident that he could swear that he saw my dad, (or the man that we just saw leaning on the old Buick in the parking lot of the funeral home where my dad was being readied for his ‘going home party’) driving the same car the day prior. He thought it odd that this man would turn to look directly at my husband just as the cars passed each other.

I tucked those oddities away and attributed them to extreme stress, but they kept happening…   I have a friend who is a Greek Orthodox who says that according to their tradition, they believe that the soul after death remains here for forty days. Forty days for unfinished business. I believe it to be true.     Stay tuned for more stories

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