As a Twenty-three year old I knew I had a rational mind, maybe. At that time, I had my first child it was the greatest experience that I ever had. My father was so proud of me. He fell in love with my little girl.
When my daughter was six months, I was bathing her, when our phone rang; I had that "death call" feeling. I had that ominous feeling of absolute dread. My sister in law, who was visiting, handed me the phone and said something is wrong. It was my aunt telling me they rushed my father to the hospital. Okay, no problem my husband and I got into the car left for the hospital by the time we got there he had already died. How do you explain the feeling when a parent dies? I couldn't so I just held him in my arms. In the Jewish religion, you sit Shiva, which means 7 in Hebrew. Seven days in his apartment with everyone yakking away about things I just didn't care to hear, but that's how it goes right. After the seventh night, I went home, tired, hurt, angry, and every human emotion you feel when someone dies.
That night I bathed my daughter, I tried reading a book but I couldn't concentrate and slowly fell asleep. I woke up with an eerie feeling, I don't know what to call it, but every muscle, nerve, and hair on my body stood up. My heart was being squeezed so tightly I could almost feel it burst. I hear my daughter crying, not "I am hungry, mommy" type of crying, but a "come and get me" crying.
When I walked in her room it was freezing, you could see your breath. I checked the window, but it was closed tight. I checked the radiator (yes a radiator) and it was warm. The fear became unbearable, I grabbed my daughter and ran out of the room. I couldn't get her to quiet down, so I handed her over to my husband and went back into her room the cold was gone, and so was her pacifier. I looked everywhere for it. While I was looking for it, I heard someone call my name; it sounded just how my dad said it, loud and in French! A ghostly visit even from my father scared me; although now I believe he came to say goodbye and take something of my daughter's, if that's even possible, to remember her. By the way, I bought her a new pacifier and it never went missing again.
The following day I called my mom and told her all that happened. I cried because it was such a terrifying experience; remember I did not believe in ghosts, well maybe Casper but not a real one. My mom decided we should take the baby for a nice long walk and get a dose of fresh cold air. It was a sunny day so off we went.
As we were walking my mom says, What do you want? I'm like, I don't want anything. Then why did you touch my shoulder? I didn't touch your shoulder! Then together we heard her name called out in that, loud French way. If she did not believe me then she believed me now.
The visits from my father continued for 30 days. At the end of the month it stopped. Again, in the Jewish religion after 30 days the deceased is with God. As much as I loved my father I did not want another visit, I hoped it would never happen again, wrong.
I had three more children all boys. On the eighth day we circumcise our boys and each time, especially with my first son because he is named after him, his presence was there. I had come to know his presence and so did my daughter Abba (father in Hebrew) she would say. Small little things went missing all three times. I know that my father was there giving his blessings to my sons, and they have grown to be wonderful men.
Even today when I am alone in my house either reading or writing something like a snail mail letter, I have the impression that he is there. My daughter felt his presence when she had cancer and was going through chemotherapy, he watched over her. Feeling his presence has happened a lot over the years, I just smile and continue what I am doing. Sometimes I think I see him through my peripheral vision. It was my experience, and my daughter's and we will never forget it. I guarantee my mother won't either. She is 86 now at times she hears him calling her.
Love does not die even when the one you loved has.