A Night in Dad's Heaven

This entry won't be very interesting to those who don't believe in an afterlife, but I have to write about it. I spent most of last night with my dad in his "heaven". Or maybe it's just one of his places, I don't know...

At first I thought it was just a dream, but then I saw him sitting in a lawn chair at the water's edge, fishing. By my calculations, he looked as he did when he was around 30 as he called me over to join him. I sat down on the sand with my feet in the ripples of waves. There were no crashing waves as I recall, more like the kind you see on one of the Great Lakes. The locale was tropical, with soft, white sand, pale blue water, palm trees and foliage, some boasting a profusion of blossoms and flowers. Behind us was a calm lagoon and between us and it was a road. There also was a green butte that ran along the road and on a flat area at the butte's base, slightly elevated, were some small houses in that quasi-French style that was popular in the States in the 1930s with the wrought iron railings, paned windows, and white trim. We spoke little, just enjoyed being together, but I did comment on how warm and pleasant the water was.

Later, we went for a walk along the road and I saw a woman coming out of her house, and I waved to her. I knew her, but I can't tell you from where, or when. The place was very familiar to me and I asked Dad if we could go to that one cafe we used to like so much; was it still there? He said that it was and we went to where it sat on the beach. He spoke to a few people as they passed and everyone was peaceful and quietly happy and gentle.

Time passed in that nebulous way that it does in these astral states and it appeared that sunset was approaching, although I hadn't been conscious of any physical sun. We headed back up the road and in the nearing distance I saw a big bonfire glowing on the beach. People were coming out of their houses to go to where it was and Dad told me that it was time for me to go back. He then reached into his pants pocket and brought out a large denomination bill (I couldn't make out what it was, but it was at least $1000) and said he was going to give it to me "as a reminder." He pulled out his old Zippo lighter and began to burn it, although the flame didn't consume it. "This is to remind you what to do with this," he said, smiling, and he handed the bill to me. He left then and I tried to follow, but a young man met me with a huge smile on his face, saying that I couldn't go any further and that it was time for me to return.

When I woke up, I knew that Dad is in a wonderful place, enjoying himself and that one day I'll meet him there again. Today it's snowing. So different from where I spent the night. I'm feeling a wonderful sense of peace, something I haven't felt in a very long time.