Just a bit of background. My dad was a wonderful person. While growing up my dad worked in construction so was away from home on many occasions but when home, he always made time for his children. Dad and I were very close and I was considered the "apple of his eye".
My parents lived in Delmas and in early 2000 my dad became very ill and was mostly bedridden. As we lived in Vereeniging at the time it was quite a distance to travel so our visits took place on Sunday's (usually about once a month) when we could arrive early and spend the day with my parents.
During these Sunday visits I would spend many hours with my dad talking about anything and everything. His main concern was what would become of my mother after he died, so I made a promise that my siblings and I would ensure that mom was well taken care of.
Now, when I was very small, my dad lost his thumb in an accident. The doctors decided to amputate his index finger and use this to make a thumb but had to shorten it. Needless to say they messed up and cut the finger just above the knuckle which resulted in the thumb being a stump. This made my dad's hand very distinctive.
Late in June of 2001, I received a call from my younger sister telling me that my dad had taken a bad turn and was admitted to hospital. She also said that he did not recognize or respond to anyone.
On Sunday, 1 July 2001, my husband (ex-husband now) asked if I would like to go and see my dad and I said no. My daughter, 15 years old at the time (very wise young lady), kept telling me that I should go and see my father because "if you don't, mommy, you will regret it one day..." My answer was that I want to remember my dad the way he was and that my dad would understand...
Approximately 16h00 I received the call that my father had passed away. Now this was very emotional because I adored my father (still do) but needed to let my older sister know as she couldn't be reached by phone.
At approx. 21h00, emotionally exhausted, I went to bed. Unusually for me, I lay down on my back with my hands resting on my chest. I had just closed my eyes, (I was definitely not sleeping) when I felt someone squeeze my hand. My eyes flew open and I clearly saw my dad's hand on mine but when looking up there was no one there.
I immediately felt at peace and JUST KNEW that daddy did understand why I had not come to see him. He had forgiven me and had come to say goodbye.
I never saw my dad again but he is always in my heart and my thoughts and I miss him every day of my life. And, I know he is still around and guiding me. But, that is another story.
I told my mom and siblings about my experience and all of them believed me. Both my sisters said "You were always daddy's favorite so he needed to say goodbye..."
Thank you for reading this.