This past Monday ...
I woke up a bit alarmed from a nightmare.
You know the kind where you're running
& you just can't seem to get anywhere fast enough...
so you try leaping off the ground to fly...
but that doesn't work cause for some reason
it's all in slow motion....
and you're being chased by someone or
something but you don't know what it is -
well, that's normally how it goes -
but in this case - I was running a marathon -
which is highly unusual for my character since I follow in my
Father's belief that running is truly a sport made for criminals.....
While I was pounding pavement in this dream...
I happened upon an ambulance, it's doors wide open
the crew members pounding on the chest of
I watched as his body lifted, then jolted once more as they tried to revive him
I could hear the cry of the heart monitor
and I shouted - NO!
Someone I went to high school with ran up behind me,
head band on, large number safety pinned to his chest
"keep running - your Dad would have wanted it that way."
Clear as day - this mid night movie replayed several times
throughout the day - enough for me to make verbal note to
Mr. Trinidad at work - ask his opinion.
Careful - he said - your dad is gonna get sick.
Wednesday I was working, pouring beer, minding my own business -
when suddenly an eruption of bagpipes silenced the chatter and laughter in the room.
I can't be hearing things....not now....was this a sign?
A man entered the side door, dressed in kilt and such and kept his solo up a good 3 minutes.
My chest became heavy.
I could not breathe in anticipation of hearing the same sound that
my Father requested for his own funeral.
I choked back the palpable tears not wanting to explain my sudden, visible dismay.
Yesterday afternoon, 2:28pm. I answered my Father's cell phone call.
I ran from my house as fast as I could and pounded the gas pedal
into the floor of my decrepit car.
Stay with me Daddy, Stay with me.
I found my Father slumped over the kitchen table of pale gray and purplish color.
He could not lift his head to see me. His speech was slurred.
I couldn't make sense of what he was saying other than he was cold even though he was drenched in perspiration.
The humidity was high - I was sure he was having a heat stroke.
Watching the EMT's enter my parents house one by one
I remembered being part of a similar scene
in San Francisco and thinking to myself on that day -
I needed to be closer to my real family in case anything would like that would happen.......
When I rejoined the room - my father's policemen had arrived for duty, my father - delirious & vomiting.
I packed his things and met my mother who was sobbing in the drive.
Neighbors literally came out of the woodwork to keep up with the small town gossip.
Driving to the hospital I couldn't help but think of what I dreamt, what I heard. Having this gift - whatever you want to label it - is like seeing a preview for a movie that hasn't been made yet where you get hints of the plot line and just anticipate the dramatic ending....
My Father is doing much better. We had a few good laughs over lunch today. He's back to normal skin color and spirits. I don't know what I would have done, had I not been able to respond to his call - so far away.
I just want to acknowledge all of those who held their fingers crossed and called with concern after hearing the news spread like wild fire through these here...strange woods.
My love to you.
Everything for a reason -
As we are all but glorious process.