ACCEPTANCE, AMWRITING, daughters, death, family, fathers, grief, grieving, life, parents, relationships, uncatagorized, Uncategorized, writing

The Visit

He walked into my childhood bedroom as I laid in my bed. His strong, solid form enveloping me in a hug. He’s much younger looking than the last time I saw him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as he headed to the window, pulling back the drapes, checking on the raging storm outside.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He answered returning to me, hugging me again as he kissed me on the forehead.

“What’s it like?” I asked. Not giving him time to answer, I excitedly follow with another question. “Did you meet God?”

He chuckled, slightly shaking his head in an ‘I really can’t answer that’ fashion. Then a sly smile crossed his lips.

“I may have made a friend up there.” He answers .

I give him a knowing smile.

“I really have to go.” He says with a twinge of regret. Not for himself, but for me, knowing that I don’t want to be left behind without him.

I grabbed his hand one last time. “I love you daddy.” I cried as he walked out the door.

My eyes open in darkness, my breathe filling the void. I can still feel his loving, solid embrace. A comforting warmth washes over me. It’s been a nice visit.


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