Visit With Dad

Last night I was watering my yard when Dad appeared. We visited while I placed hoses around the yard and set sprinklers in strategic locations.

I asked him what he thought of everything going on in the world these days.

“Pray that it ends soon,” he replied with ominous tones. He’s always been like that and then he would laugh as if he were telling me this in jest.

But, this time he didn’t laugh. “What’s up Dad?”

“Nothing that concerns you in this world. I would definitely prepare yourself for the next one though. Are all your affairs in order?”

“I got plenty of time for that Dad.”

“You know time is finite, don’t you?” He gave me a cursory glance at the lagoon at Long Lake at Tum Tum.

“I know, I remember. But it was your time, then. You had lost hope wanted this.”

“I didn’t lose hope. I had another plan that’s all. God helped me out, as well as he did your mother. Some day he’ll do the same for you. Are you ready?”

“I supposed I am. Do you have an exact date?”

“I gotta go visit your sisters. They’re expecting me to come visit too. You’re putting too much water on that bush you got there.” He then walked away down Rowan Street.

I awoke and thought about what he stated. Obviously, the crap we are faced with is of no concern for him anymore. He’s with Him and will be undoubtedly forever. I’m sure he knows something is up and that what we are faced with today is not all that bad as long as we have hope and faith that this will eventually work out.

I sometimes wish he were still around, but am, also glad he’s not. What little advice he offered me last night was about par when he was alive; more elusive than forthcoming. It was as if he was telling me, “figure it out for yourself; I did.”

So what that I’m dealing with a pandemic and racial injustice that has spurred to racial unrest. He had remnants of the Great Depression, followed by World War Two and then the Cold War and the craziness of the 60s to contend with. Granted he was but a child in those first episodes of his life, but an adult later. There was very much uncertainty in our country then. Blame was spread far and wide across both political parties as to who was at fault.

Then there was the personal baggage he had to contend with: making a living, feeding, and putting a roof over his family’s heads, being responsible and not having anyone to talk to. His dad died just after my first birthday in 1959.

Maybe grandpa visited him in his dreams too like he did mine last night. Maybe this was his way of saying Happy Fathers’ Day.

Published by Jerry Schellhammer

I'm a prospective writer with an unassuming job working as a janitor at a tribal casino near Spokane, Washington. Writing is my passion, though my family seem to think I'm wasting my time. This is fine; their expectations of me are low and they tend to leave me alone in my office writing out my stories of mystery and suspense. I have a BA in English with emphasis in professional writing from Washington State University, my website: www.jerryschellhammer.com is available for everyone to see my list of writing accomplishments and hopefully buy my first published book, or my many short stories available on Amazon.

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