I Believe I Can Talk To My Dead Father
I believe that I can talk to my dead father, and he can hear me. And, I believe that he answers back. I know my father watches over me and it is this belief that has allowed me to persevere during difficult times.
I never really gave much thought to the spiritual realm. I considered myself an agnostic yet never really pursued an organized religion. I was the type that felt that I needed proof in order to believe that God, or any other higher power, existed. Ironically though, after my father’s death, I began to have faith. I did not have faith in God. I had faith that my father. And, despite crossing over, I felt that he was still with me.
It wasn’t until after my father died of cancer that fateful day in April of 2002, a year after I was married, did I slowly began to wonder if there was life after death. I would never have given acknowledgement to this change of thought had it not been for the experience I had the night before my father died.
It occurred sometime between two and three in the morning. I was lying in my bed, next to my husband, numb from his impending death, when all of a sudden I felt a complete peace come over my body. In that instant, I knew my father would be fine. And, what accompanied that feeling was a dream that night where my father was smiling and smiling, something he did not often do when he was alive, especially in those last few months when he was sick in the hospital with cancer.
I woke up the next morning, vividly remembering my dream and feeling as if my father had somehow sent me a message. I excitedly shared this with my husband who simply remarked, “Your father came to you in a dream.”
It was from that night on that I slowly began to research the possibility of communicating with the dead. And, by that, I don’t mean pulling out the Ouija boards or receiving a tarot reading. I mean the form of communication that exists in your mind that can be “heard” by what psychic medium John Edward calls, the Other Side.
After my father died, I constantly had urges to “talk” to him. I wouldn’t have daily conversations with him but I just had to know that he was still near me. I prayed that he was alright. And, as my eyes and heart slowly began to open up, I noticed more and more signs, or coincidences some might call them. I felt that my father could hear me, although I couldn’t hear or see him.
I found it quite interesting that every time I prayed to him, regardless of where I was (although I personally feel that he hears me much more clearly at his grave), he answers my prayers. When I asked him to bless with a child, I became pregnant that very month. When my husband had to take a very important and difficult test, he passed with flying colors. When my mother was ill with a skin rash no one could diagnose properly, the same day I went to his grave to pray, the rash was identified. These are only a handful of examples that, to me, are more than just coincidences.
While I will never have physical proof that my father can hear me when I pray to him, and that he actually answers back, I have faith that he watches over me. This provides me much comfort and strength in many trying times. When I am talking to my father, pleading that he help me, I know he hears me. And, he is slowly working his magic. This, I believe.
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