3-D Communication

My father passed away when I was in my mid-30’s. The person who most believed in me and loved me was now gone. He was my best friend. Losing my father early in life, set my emotional compass spinning.

Upon his death, I struggled to find my bearings. I also wanted him to remain a part of my life and if possible, to visit me in my dreams. Exactly three hundred and sixty-four days after his passing, I dreamt of my father. In my dream, he was standing, of all places, on a freeway overpass, smiling as wide as the Cheshire Cat. All was well with him as he communicated to me in a telepathic manner. This pleased my heart. But from that day forward, he never again appeared in my dreams.

Instead, he found a more tangible and organic way to communicate his presence. One day while I was hiking alongside a reservoir, I spotted a large rock in the shape of a heart. An impression of my father’s face immediately came to mind. This was his way of telling me that he was close by and still with me.

Over the years I have collected a number of heart-shaped rocks that appear when I need him most. One rock in particular is in a shade of red. You have to see it to believe it.

Just yesterday, I celebrated what would have been my father’s 96th birthday. I celebrate his birthday each year, even though his physical form is no longer present.

One week prior to this particular birthday, I was thumbing through a mail order catalogue and stopped on a page featuring the Peanuts character known as Snoopy. Advertised on this page was a cubic zirconia Snoopy necklace and an adorable carved image of Snoopy holding a doughnut and coffee mug.

Normally I would have breezed by this type of merchandise. But instead, I kept looking at these two versions of Snoopy, which somehow or another lifted my heart and made me feel most happy. First clue that something was up.

I then picked up one of my magazines and in its contents turned to a page featuring a pair of tennis shoes with an image of Snoopy giving Woodstock a hug. And at that moment I remembered that I used to give my father greeting cards with images of Snoopy and little Woodstock.

No doubt, my father was communicating to me through these images, or as I call it, 3-D communication. It was as if these pages were alive with the spirit and presence of my father. What a wonderful, warm feeling it was. “Hi Dad,” I said to the page. I know he heard me, just as I was hearing from him.

My father’s spirit was communicating with me in a way that was both comforting and familiar. Our departed loved ones can and will “talk” to us, provided we see and hear beyond what one might think, believe in, or expect.

On the day of my father’s birthday and the day after, I kept hearing the Peanuts theme song in my mind. And after humming it throughout the day, my husband burst into a little Snoopy happy dance right next to the decorations I laid out in remembrance of him. “I’m listening Dad. Happy 96th birthday!”