|This is where I got the image!!!!|
I like to think that I am a woman of science. I will not believe in anything unless I see cold hard facts. My love for science made me question my spiritual beliefs. As a child, I told my family I was no longer Catholic because I oppose the church and did not believe in god. As a teenager, I became a Wiccan. A couple of years ago, I ditched those beliefs and just consider myself agnostic.
I don't really consider myself an Atheist. I do believe that there is life after death and do know that there is no actual proof. I have had personal experiences and seen many things throughout the years that make me believe in these things.
When my father died, I was still very young and it felt like my whole world came crashing down. My dad was my protector and friend. He "got me" when I felt like no one else did. After his death, he visited me in a dream and asked me to take care of my mother. He also reinstated what he told me on the day he died: he loved me. He reassured me that he will look out for me and will be watching over me.
It has been well over a decade since his passing and I still miss him at times. I was thinking about him recently considering a family member shared a story on Facebook that made me cry. I will not share it here as it is in French but the story behind it was very heartfelt. In fact, after reading it, I broke down and had a very confused husband that wondered what the hell happened to me. Only minutes prior, I was making my usual sarcastic remarks and laughing my head off then all of a sudden, I was bawling my eyes out!
The story was about a man who walks on a bus, holding a bouquet of roses. The bus driver asks the man if those flowers were for his wife. The man said "no, they are for my daughter. I am going to buy her chocolate too and take her to the movies. Her fiancé left her three days ago. I vowed that for as long as I live, I will do everything I can to wipe tears off of my daughters face" I remember being heartbroken myself after a break up and my dad did the same thing as the man in the story. In fact, bouquets of roses were our thing.
My dad used to grow beautiful roses in the front of our house and the both of us always admired the red ones. He would always make a bouquet out of his roses for me.
When he died and my birthday rolled around, I wanted to get tattooed in his honor. My coworkers all chipped in for that tattoo, which made it extra special. I have a rose on my right shoulder. This way, my dad would always be with me, he would have my back.
|Oooh cool mystical effect! Got to love the shadow of my phone! It was done on purpose, I swear!|
There are times in my life when I feel down or just generally miss him! Sometimes, I just talk to him. I feel stupid talking to "dead air" or to myself so I would turn the ringer off on my home and talk to him that way. I got inspired to do this by watching the second Poltergeist movie. There is a scene where the spirit of Carol Anne's grandmother would call her on her toy phone and they would communicate with each other! I would tell my pops about my day and all the things that pissed me off. I would talk to him about Philip. During the most difficult times of my life, I would just go for a walk and talk to my old friend. Sometimes, just sometimes, I know he is listening.
Getting married was particularly difficult for me. I wanted him to walk me down the aisle. I am old-fashioned that way. I was his princess and I knew that as much as he would have been happy for me, it would have been bitter sweet for him! I remember "talking" to him and asking for a cool summer breeze during the hand fasting part of my ceremony (I was still Wiccan at that time). I wanted the wind to hit the lace sleeves on my dress so they could blow in the wind. Sure enough, just as our hands were being tied together, there was a gust of wind and my sleeves were blowing in the wind with the hand fasting ribbons!
So yes, I might talk to myself (at least I use my phone, I feel less crazy that way, especially when I am out in public) but in my mind, I am talking to my pops. If that makes you think I am insane, that is fine by me but know this: The insane do not question their sanity and I question mine on a daily basis!