It was my father’s 8th Death Anniversary yesterday. My mom and my brother went to his grave two days before his anniversary, because my mother had to go out of town for work and she wanted to deliver her flowers and clean the grave, on top of offering masses for his soul. She won’t have enough time to do so as she will be preparing his death anniversary lunch on the day itself. It was only me and hubby who visited him on his actual date of death and I brought him flowers and lighted candles and said prayers for his soul.
Three days before his death anniversary, my dad appeared to me in a dream. He came over and the two of us went together because he wanted to see my niece, Nadine. We somehow arrived where Nadine was and from afar, both of us looked at her. He didn’t go and talk to her or play with her, or the like. From where we were, I was talking to him about her, and I said, “she’s grown so big, right?” and he only had the words, “yes” to say. On our way home, I asked him if it were okay for him to come back and he said that of course, it was, as he was permitted to do so.
That was all.
I didn’t remember my dream upon waking up. In fact, it only dawned to me after lunch when I remembered my father’s upcoming death anniversary. Then, I recounted the dream in my mind. I marvel how in the dream, both of us know he wasn’t supposed to be there at all, although it was never expressly uttered that he was already dead. I also like how consistent his behavior was, that he was just taking a peek on his grandchild and did not bother to carry her or wrap her in his embrace. Why the marvel? Because my father never got to see her at all; my niece was born three years after he died. The fact that he acted rightly being a dead person and thus, could not just approach my niece, somehow reassured me that though he’s gone, he’s still just there, watching over us. Had he came and acted like a living person, I would not feel the same, because it would seem just the product of my unconscious yearning for him. That he came in my dream like that tells me he’s still here… somehow… somewhere.
Thanks for the visit, Pang! We remember you always!