Although today has been a hard day, I felt a smile cross my face when I got this email from my aunt about a dream she’s had about my father:
He was riding on a Greyhound bus with many other people, and it must have been summer in country Illinois because the corn was high. The bus stopped because it had a flat tire, and the people got off. They began looking at the scenery, and Brian said “It’s okay, I can walk from here” and began walking away with a medium rectangular brown suitcase which did not seem to be heavy. In the distance, to the east, was the DeKalb water tower. He was wearing jeans and a short sleeved button front plaid shirt, a sort of blue/teal/aqua with white and a touch of orange.
So maybe my dad is closer than I think. Some people say they can feel their loved one’s presence after death. I’ve never had that feeling in the last six years. But maybe my dad really is carrying that suitcase and coming home to us, somehow. It’s a nice comfort to end the day.