A Midnight Visitation

I awoke in the middle of the night to find my Father sitting on my bed with his legs crossed, silently reading 4-5 pages of something stapled together. I froze. I had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, but I got the impression it had been for a while, and he was trying not to wake me. I shut my eyes and listened while my brain tried to process what was happening.

What was he reading? Like God had scribbled something down on paper and my Dad was studying it to gain perspective. Whatever the contents, he seemed to regard it as very important. And though an adult, I was still my Father’s child and therefore not privy to whatever insights those pages held. He didn’t divulge and I knew not to ask.

 

I opened my eyes again to adjust them to the darkness, and my brain was teetering. Between the images I saw and what I desperately wanted those images to mean.

 

My very first thought…if my Father is sitting on the edge of my bed, then I can ask him anything and get his advice. An actual father/daughter conversation like we used to have.

 

I cannot describe that feeling. It’s as if the major arteries to your heart had been blocked for years and in a single instant, the blockage parted like the Red Sea and your blood was now flowing at full capacity. Knowing I could ask my Father anything made my heart freer, lighter, like it had once felt long ago when there were so many possibilities. And I felt before I thought, or at least before I was cognizant that I was thinking.

Like when something tragic happens that pierces your soul and you somehow manage to sleep that night. You wake up the next morning and feel that something is horribly wrong. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but in a couple of seconds, your brain focuses and you remember the tragic event from the day before. It was just like that, except rather than feeling that something was horribly wrong, I felt that something was incredibly right…again. And it felt amazing.

 

But by this time, I woke up completely and realized my Father was not sitting on the edge of my bed. He wasn’t reading 4-5 pages of anything and the silence wasn’t about him not wanting to wake me. It was about him not being there.

 

Maybe my mind had been playing tricks on me. Maybe I had opened my eyes before fully coming out of a deep sleep. Whatever the cause of my midnight illusion, once I knew my Father wasn’t with me, all that hope vanished.

 

My Father just began his 18th year with Alzheimer’s. He’s now living in a facility so it’s been over a year since he was at home with us. Thankfully, he still knows who we are and seems to really enjoy living there.

So what was the reason for my illusion last night? I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know. But I do know that I’ll never be able to sit down and ask my Father for advice.

 

I also know that when it comes to our loved ones, we aren’t promised tomorrow. Sometimes we lose our loved ones in an earth-shattering minute; other times we lose them slowly to illness.

 

So don’t wait. Hug your loved ones, spend time with them and tell them that you love them. Don’t be stingy with your love and make time to see your parents and grandparents, even if they live far away…or in a nursing home. Love your loved ones, even if that love isn’t returned. Because trust me, you can never go back. Not even when your mind is playing tricks on you.

 

 

4 thoughts on “A Midnight Visitation”

  1. Once again you’re right on target. Keep loving those around each time we have the opportunity.

  2. Beautiful. I am still enjoying these reads. I’ve learned so much from you especially since my aging mother lives with me.

    Thank you for sharing

    1. So good to hear from you Chandra! I’m glad you find these helpful. 🤗 Love & blessings!

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