I was very close to my father, and his sudden passing was unexpected. A brief illness, a mistaken diagnosis. The lack of closure made it more difficult.
I did what I should not have done, but I didn’t know it then. After a month, I stood by his resting place and asked to see him again. I asked for a chance to say, “I love you. Good-bye.” Something. Having heard of people who saw parents or grandparents in dreams, I hoped for a dream … my “special visit” dream. I went to sleep hopeful. One night, two, three. It was not meant to be. I let it go.
Weeks past. I attended an inspirational evening with a spiritual teacher. In a large hall, I sat about the center in a circle of chairs, across from the lecturer. Mid-way through the presentation, suddenly, without warning, my father was there. He looked just as I had known him. His beloved face was as clear as those of my friends. He was at the other end of the hall near the back wall, hovering closer to the ceiling than to the floor. I was aware that if I were to walk across the room and stretch out my hand, there would be nobody there to touch.
I felt the tears. Father was here. He had come to see me…to let me see him. His message was mind-to-mind, clear, brief, and different than expected. “Nomi,” he called me, “do as many good deeds as you can because Moshiach is coming soon.”
My father had returned to a world of truth – eternal truth. He wanted his beloved child to know that truth and to live it. So, I gather as much light as possible, for that is the only wealth we can take with us when we return. Forever.
