The Grief Diet: On the loss of my father

My family had recently taken a trip to California. I was reveling in a quiet house and having the bed all to myself.  It was a bit chilly that night so I had turned on my electric blanket a little to high. I was tossing and turning because I was too hot.  I threw off the blanket and sat up to turn the heat down. I looked up and couldn’t believe what I saw. I thought to my self  “Am I hallucinating?” “Have I gone completely mad?” I then wondered whether or not I was dreaming. There he was standing at the foot of my bed. He was wearing his faded jeans and plaid shirt with the blue and yellow stripes. He wasn’t wearing his oxygen or as my daughter called it, his tail.  It was one thing to see him standing at the foot of my bed but it was another thing to hear him talk. He said to me “Kim, I know you are having a hard time sleeping because you are uncomfortable. I am going to open a window for you to let some cool air in.” He smiled at me and had a genuine concerned look on his face.  I have seen that look on his face a million times. When I had any kind of ailment, even a headache, he would have this worried look on his face.  I specifically remember that look when I was in labor with my oldest. He always was on a mission to fix whatever problem afflicted me. From my car, to my worries, to broken windows in my house. Even in his death, he is trying to fix things for me.  So after he smiled at me, I watched him walk to my window and then he disappeared. I cried outloud “dad, please don’t go.” I sat there and the tears began to roll down my cheek not because I was frightened, but because I had spent a few precious seconds with my dad. After the tears dried up, I went to turn down my electric blanket and well….it had been turned off.   I am not going to go as far as saying my father’s ghost came to visit me and adjusted my electric blanket. But regardless of what it was or wasn’t, he still watches over me.