When someone you love dies, you tend to wonder where they are now, if they’re still ‘around’ in spirit, that sort of thing. It’s only natural.
My late father was a big goofball, very funny, but in a dry-as-toast humor kind of way (explains my sense of humor, I suppose). Before he died, we used to joke with each other about him possibly haunting me. Naturally, I told him not to ever scare me or freak me out once he was dead. I know, such a strange conversation to have, but us Mainers aren’t known for mincing our words.
He promised me he would only haunt me in the funniest or mildest way possible. And only if I asked him to, of course. I was and still am Daddy’s little girl, so I know he would never intentionally freak me out in any way.
Still, I ask him for signs here and there. Not often, maybe once every few years or so. Usually, when I’m thinking about him or missing him, like when it’s his birthday or Father’s Day, I might casually ask him how he’s doing…hey, what’s happenin’, Daddy-O?…stuff like that. I tell him about my life and what his grandkids are doing. Then I test him. Ask him to show me a sign he’s heard me and to prove that he still exists somewhere. (I’m a Virgo, cynical by nature, what can I say?)
When I’m alone, I actually talk to him out loud. This is key, I think. And before you think I’m a bit loony, let me say this: I loved my dad more than any other man on the planet, save my husband. He meant the world to me and to lose him was devastating, as it is to anyone who loses a parent. So, to occasionally talk to him, like he’s around? It’s a normal thing for me, a way to grieve, stay connected and remember him.
He’s been gone now for 21 years–today is the anniversary of his death–and whenever I’ve asked him for a ‘sign’, he delivers. In a way there is no mistaking it was him. He was, and still is, a clever guy. He apparently hasn’t lost his sense of humor, either.
A few years ago, my husband and father-in-law were helping my mother move from her apartment in another town to come live with us. I had silently asked my dad for a sign that morning. Suddenly, my phone rang and it was my father-in-law, a man who isn’t inclined to believing in ghosts or signs.
“Darla, this sounds crazy but….”
“Did you ask your dad for a sign today?” he asked.
I felt my heart stop. “Yes, I did! Why?”
“Did he have a connection with electronics? Like, say…with fuses?” he laughed.
My dad was a typical father back in the ’70s. He was always puttering around the house, fixing things, rebuilding things. We used to tease him because he had drawers full of junky old fuses, odd and ends. Always ready to fix anything at a moment’s notice. He’d wanted to be an electrician while in the Navy, but his color-blindness had ended that dream.
My father-in-law continued chuckling on the phone, “Because we got out of my car, went inside to help load up the U-Haul…. came back and there was this old-fashioned fuse that looked like it was from the old days just sitting smack in the middle of my car seat. It wasn’t there before and we can’t figure out where it came from.”
My dad struck again.
Another year, the day I had asked my dad for a sign, I was playing a video game with my then five year old son. After I won the game, he turned to me and yelled, clear as day, “Good job, Punky!”
“What did you just say?” I asked. A chill ran up my neck.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged and turned back to his game.
I hadn’t heard anyone call me Punky since I was about eight years old. It was my dad’s nickname for me. Even my husband didn’t know my dad had called me Punky. Say what you will, maybe it was coincidence. But I know it was my dad’s way of saying he was there with me.
There are loads of other ‘signs’ he’s left me over the years, too many to go into here.
This brings me to this year’s sign. Probably the best one yet. Definitely the most unbelievable.
I always have a very difficult time when his anniversary comes up, so to fight the darkness, I asked my dad for yet another signal: “Hey, Dad. How goes it? If you’re not too busy, how about showing me a sign you’re still around again? This time, make it a really good one, so I know it’s definitely you.” I laughed to myself because I knew he wouldn’t disappoint.
That night, I had a vivid dream he was talking to me, but I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. At one point, I started to slowly wake up from the dream, still foggy in that bizarre transition from dreaming to waking, when I heard him say plain as day, in a firm voice, directly into my ear:
I will call you.
As I stirred awake, I heard him say it again and again a few more times. I was fully awake now, my heart pounding. Keep in mind, this is not a normal occurrence for me. I don’t think I’ve ever received a message from my dreams, especially one that vivid before. I usually wake up in a complete groggy state and forget my dreams within seconds.
I will call you. His voice still echoed deep in my mind.
Hm. I thought. He’s gonna call me? Ha! I’d love to see that happen! I couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of the very notion. I didn’t even tell my husband what my dad said in my dream. I shook it off and went about my day.
So I pushed my dream to the back of my thoughts. Later on that day, my husband was in the living room and I was in the bedroom. Suddenly, my cell phone rang. Which is odd because I have an old pre-pay flip phone and rarely use it. I have it for emergencies only. No one ever calls me on it, unless it is the school with an emergency about my kids. I don’t think I’ve received a single phone call on my phone in over a year. I didn’t even realize what ring tone I had until it went off that night. Yet, there it was, ringing and ringing, cutting through the silence.
Neither of us made a move to answer it.
“Is that your phone?” asked my husband, laughing to himself.
“I don’t know, I guess. Who could be calling me? Where is it?” I yelled from the bedroom.
“I think it’s coming from your purse.”
“Huh. That’s odd.”
It stopped ringing, so I went back to reading my book.
About an hour went by and when I walked into the living room, my husband asked, “Hey, who was calling you on your phone anyway? Did you check?”
Oh, yeah! I walked over and dug my cell out of my purse and flipped it open to see who had called me on caller ID. I scrolled down to “missed calls”.
It was my own cell phone number.
My cell phone called my cell phone? Is that possible?
“What the hell? It’s my own number? How could my phone call itself?” I asked my husband. “Maybe a button was somehow accidentally pushed in my purse?”
Granted, neither of us was anywhere near my purse when the phone started ringing.
I stood there trying to figure it out. I decided to dial my cell phone number on my cell to see if it would ring (as crazy as that sounds) and of course, it went straight to my voice mail. How can a phone dial itself? I’ve had this phone for years and years and never once did it ‘call itself’. I was positive it must be a glitch. Right?
It took several minutes before it dawned on me.
I will call you.
And you know what?
I think he did.
126 thoughts on “Signals from Beyond”
You really gave me the chills with this post! My husband and I were just talking about those “signs” from beyond. And we were remembering the most vivid and clear sign that I got from my Dad after he died.
He used to always call us on our birthdays, and he and my Mom would sing Happy Birthday. The first birthday after his death, my cell phone rang at 5 AM. This was odd, because my alarm was set for 6. And it was a Sunday, so the alarm should have been off. I picked up the phone, totally bewildered, and saw that the alarm was, in fact, ringing. When I checked the settings, it said, “Alarm off”. I was looking at those words, “Alarm off”, as I held the ringing phone in my hand.
And my dad “puttered”, too, and could fix anything. And…he was color blind, too.
I’m really glad that your Dad called you!
Your story gave me chills, too. For your phone to ring on your birthday like that? Seems too significant to be a coincidence.
It would be typical of my dad to use electronics to show me a sign. He was pretty obsessed with technology and stuff when he was alive. Course, he didn’t get to even see a cell phone in his lifetime. I’m certain he would get a huge kick out of all the smart phones, etc.
My Dad loved gadgets, too! And we all laugh when he seems to contact us through the electronics. My siblings have had experiences with lights going on, or radios.
And my brother went to a medium once; and my Dad was there, as clear as day. The medium referenced a conversation that had had at Dad’s funeral, saying, “Your Dad says you were right. He is eating pasta with his Mother.” So reassuring!
Wow, that is really amazing. It really is beyond comforting to imagine that our dads are still with us.
Do me a favour. Next time you want a signal from him, give him a challenge – one I’m sure he’ll find to his liking. Tell him I need a 30-amp screw-in type fuse for our water pump for our well. He has his choice – he can give it to you, or for a real challenge, have him set it out on my front porch. It’s a nice, sheltered area, so he’ll be able to get in out of the weather.
And as payback, he can borrow whatever old stuff he needs from MY father. Trust me, my dad won’t miss any of his old stuff – he’s got TONS of old electrics and screws and….. 😀
I am on it, John! If my dad pulled that off, well, that would be even beyond the scope of what I believe in. ha!
If he’s even an eighth as stubborn as my father, it’ll be a piece of cake for him! (My father wouldn’t do that, even after his death. He’d STILL yell at me to get off my lazy butt and do it myself! At least while he’s alive, I’ve got the state of Indiana as a buffer. 😯 😀 )
*Love* this. The love between you is unbreakable .. that’s it.
And I’m with you on this, it doesn’t matter how many years go by, the ache is still there. It’s the love that lingers on.
Absolutely, MJ. We had a very strong bond and he was a very unique father, that’s for certain.
Darla, I know this is very close to you. You have alluded to it before and I just waited for an explanation. When I saw the title of your post, I just knew you were ready to write this.
I almost didn’t write it. It’s hard to write about these things that are so incredibly personal, but something told me to get it out. Helped make the day of his anniversary less painful for me. I know you understand. Thank you for reading it, Georgette.
Man…that was sweet. I talk to my mom – she’s been gone more than 30 years. Just this week I talked to her about a job decision I have to make. I feel her presence more than ever see signs, but maybe I’m just not in tune to them.
That is wonderful you still talk to your mom, Katy. I like to think your mom and my dad really are around all the time and listening to us. Actually, I know they are. It’s funny that whenever I directly ask my dad for a sign, he gives me one. I still feel very silly for doing that, but it’s almost like an inside joke between us. Keeps our relationship going until I see him again.
Love this. Seriously, your stories make me a believer. I really do think that was your dad. Don’t think he’ll ever leave you. 🙂
Aw, thanks, Lily. I don’t think he ever has left me!
That’s incredible. And yet, I believe it absolutely. Say hi to your dad for me! 😀
It is amazing and if someone else had told me this story, I might have a slight doubt about it. But when it happens to you? Yeah, there is no questioning it.
I am as cynical as they come, but I believe in these occurrence. After all we are all electrical impulses, right? Where do those atoms and stuff (I’m not that good with sciency terms) go?
Exactly. Funny, this is the first thing my anatomy professor taught us in lecture this semester: energy can never be created nor destroyed.
Messages from beyond. Mmm… why not? A short while after my mum died – can’t remember now if it was days or weeks – her transister radio turned itself on to the station she used to listen to. That still makes me wonder about these things. Was it me? Was it her? Was it just some weird occurrence? I don’t think we can know, but it’s good to think it was her.
Be well, Darla. Thinking of you. Hugs.
I think whatever you believe about that radio is important to only you and your heart. If it gives you comfort, it can’t be a bad thing. Thanks for the sweet comments, Val.
Darla, my Mom had ESP and some of the stories she told me … I truly believe. I don’t think she or my Dad have tried to communicate with me. But a psychic told me things about a letter from my sister – who died the same year as my Mom – that no one could possibly know.
I’m glad your connection with your Dad is warm and comforting. I miss my Dad’s stories (he was an electronics engineer and always fixing things) and my Mom’s stories as well.
I’m sorry you’ve lost both your parents. It’s a relief for me to know you understand where I’m coming from, Judy, with this paranormal stuff. I suppose our parents never really leave us, do they? My mom and I talk a lot now about her passing (she’s almost 79 now) and I think it’s good because it’ll make the transition that much easier for everyone when it happens. I need to make sure she knows not to haunt me unless it’s funny, though.
this one gave me goosebumps, in a happy sort of way! you’re lucky to have had a parent who watches out for you even from beyond 🙂
Happy goosebumps, I love that! I am very blessed to have had a dad like him (and to still have a dad like him…)
I’m a skeptic about ghosts myself, but your stories do remind me of one my sister told me. Our Mom-Mom died when we were kids, and we all missed her dearly. Pop-pop told us that Mom-Mom “visited” him occasionally and he knew she watched out for us. One night, Em stayed over with Pop-Pop by herself. She didn’t hear any doors open, but she heard clear as day creaky foot steps in the kitchen. She jumped out of bed and not a soul was in the kitcen.Scared, she ran to my Pop-Pop’s room and woke him up, telling him what she heard. He smiled and said, “Oh that’s just your Mom-Mom; go tell her hello.” Another cousin told me the curtains in the living room suddenly flared out like the wind blew them out, but the window is stuck shut.
Makes you wonder. 🙂
Well, if someone heard footsteps, then I personally do believe she picked up on something real. I don’t dismiss any ghost stories anymore. I’ve experienced too many in my own life. I know it’s a scary unknown thing, but I feel it’s comforting to know life goes on after death in some way.
Maybe you know that I don’t believe. I don’t believe in a higher power, heaven or hell. I believe we live our life and we die and that’s it. But when I had tubes put in when I was 16 or maybe it was tonsils at 19 – whatever – my mom said she had made sure I was okay and came home to pick up my sister. She was getting off the freeway and she suddenly saw my dad, clear as day, sitting with me in recovery. He was in a chair at my side stroking my hair. She said she knew he was there and she asked if I felt him (I was still under anesthesia). To this day, even with how I feel, I believe in what my mom saw. Whether he really was with me or not nobody will ever know, but I know he was there for HER. I’ve always loved him that much more for that. He was 6-10 years gone then.
I love this story so much, Kim. I’m tearing up. How comforting for your mom to see him there with you. I get what you’re saying about how we’ll never know for sure if what we’re experiencing is real or just some figment of our imagination.
Even with all my psychic experiences in life, I’ve doubted my own mother’s stories about ‘seeing’ my late dad. She told me that my late dad was in the hospital elevator with her when she was being wheeled into heart bypass surgery 9 years ago (she was near death then)
She said, “I looked up, and there was your dad, just standing to the side with a big smile on his face. On either side of him were two giant angels. I could see their wings and the light shining off of them.” She tells me this story in such a matter of fact way. Yet, I still have the slightest sliver of doubt. Why, I have no idea. I am very spiritual. I believe in angels and God. It’s such a leap for us to make in fully believing. We have to see it with our own eyes.
That being said, I’ve seen my own late father. He was walking on the side of the road late one night on Father’s Day, not long after he had died. I saw him with my own two eyes. Was I hallucinating? I was completely lucid, I know what I saw and no one can tell me different. Then I ask myself, why wouldn’t the dead communicate with us? What if this IS all real? Spirits do exist? Imagine how incredible that is and what that means. Blows my mind.
WOW. I believe every word of this. When I was a kid, my sister and I were looking through one of my grandma’s photo albums. We came across a picture of a man we didn’t know, and Grandma told us it was our grandfather, who passed away before we were born. My sister who was about 5 at the time said that she had seen that man walking in our hallway one night.
I have chills! Kids tend to be more open to this stuff, for sure. My own son used to play with his ‘imaginary friends’ when he was little. He told me time and again one of them was a man with glasses and grayish hair. He wore all white. White shirt, white pants and had a glow of white about him. I would like to think that was my dad.
After undergoing surgery, my niece swore she saw her grandma (my mom) sitting by her hospital bed, waiting while she came out of anesthesia. My brain is skeptical, but my heart would like to think it really happens. Lovely post!
I think the heart knows much more than our brain ever will. It is a constant fight between the two, isn’t it? I would absolutely believe your mom was there by her side.
Wow. Happy birthday to your Dad. What a wonderful way for him to share it with you.
I don’t know what I believe when it comes to folks I’ve lost. I do believe that you had a father who loved you and whom you loved. And nothing gets in the way of that love. Not death or anything else. I’m glad your Dad called you.
Elyse, that is so sweet. Nothing can get in the way of love. It is the most powerful thing in the universe.
Still, even I have a slight doubt even now it was him. As I was writing this post, I asked Jim, can a phone call itself? was it a glitch? Maybe it was?? And all he could say was, “I am totally TOTALLY freaked out by it and I can’t talk about it!” haha! So if my husband was freaked out, it must have been something significant. I can’t for the life of me explain it away. Why my cell–that never rings–would ring so soon after my dad ‘told me’ in my dream he’d call me. Seems like WAY too much of a coincidence. Too bad I didn’t answer the phone!
Actually, it’s probably better that you didn’t, in a way. You would have thought it a wrong number and hung up. No mystery, no story.
True. I think that phone call played out like it was intended to. I still look back and double-check my cell even now to see if that ‘missed call’ message is still there. I am convinced, but not 100%. Always a bit skeptical. Hope you have a happy thanksgiving, Elyse.
Simply lovely!! So cool that your Dad connects with you in ways that you clearly see (or hear).
Forgot to mention that I’ve been having fun taking photos of orbs lately. Been snapping away in a room where I’ve been taking an Energy Healing class. The ceiling and upper part of the space is covered by a black cloth, and it makes for a great background to catch orbs. I make sure the flash it on, and voila!
This reminds me, Sue. We have several photos of when my son and my nephew were babies. In them is a bizarre white coil of energy hovering. I still can’t figure out what it was. It’s pretty obvious it wasn’t the camera or a glitch. (these pictures were taken on an old regular camera, not digital) I look at them now and think could that be my dad? I’ll have to email them to you.
Just ask your Dad. I know you can do this.
I love this. I love it I love it I love it. I’m so glad your dad is still around for you!
Oh, thanks so much! He is around me and apparently he is still quite the character.
Darla. I believe in this stuff. I believe you have an angel and that your dad hovers close. I have this with my grandmother. It’s creepy, but cool. This is one of the best things you’ve written. Please try to get it published somewhere. Come on!
Creepy, but cool. That is it in a nutshell, Renee. And thanks for the comment about publishing. I would have no clue how to even go about doing that, maybe someday.
You better figure that out. Your stuff is amazing. Consistently amazing. Even Jules said so. 😛
Well, now, if Jules said so, it must be true…lol Thanks, Renee, coming from you that’s a compliment. (Your writing blows me away all the time)
This is so cool Darla! You must have meant the world to him! I love that you ask him for signs. It must be so comforting. In turn, this is comforting for us too!
Thanks for sharing your amazing paranormal experiences!
I think more of us need more comforting in this world. Can’t hurt! thanks for reading it, Susie.
I’ve been thinking of you this month, Darla. Novembers pretty much suck for me since my own father died 6 years ago on Nov 7th, and I remembered from when we both posted about our fathers on the same exact day last year that you lost your father in November, too.
I love that you get signs. I talk to my father out loud too sometimes, but I have never asked him for a sign that he’s still here. Maybe he’s been sending signs the whole time but I’ve never paid attention. I wouldn’t even know what to look for. He was a thoroughly practical man, so maybe he wouldn’t even send a sign other than creating a vague notion in my mind that it’s time to change the oil in my car 😉
yes, how could I forget how we both posted within MINUTES of each other!
Sometimes I think my dad sends me signs and I totally don’t notice them. Or I just brush them aside. Just imagine for one minute that if our dads really ARE trying to contact us, how frustrating that must be for them. They want to let us know they’re still around but we dismiss it.
There is something about a father-daughter connection that is so strong. In my experience, talking directly to our loved ones, like they’re still here, is key. And asking my dad for a sign out loud seems to really spur things along. Maybe you could try that one day when you’re alone. It does feel a bit silly, (it was hard for me to tell you guys I even do this!) but for me, it’s incredibly comforting to keep my relationship with my dad going even after he’s been gone for so long.
Oh Punky, this made me cry and laugh and remember to be very very thankful that our spirits don’t fade with our bodies.
Thanks, Tori. Very thankful. For me to imagine my dad is still around this Thanksgiving and so close to the anniversary of his death, really helps lighten the mood for me. I always find myself slipping into a deep dark depression this time of year. I think now I’ll be okay. Better than okay.
This made my morning 🙂
Aw, I am so happy it did, Nicole. Enjoy your Thanksgiving!
Fantastic. Not in a not-believable way, but in a way that says you are so fortunate to have this connection with your Dad. How lovely that he still watches over you and lets you know that he isn’t far away. I would cherish this gift if it were to happen to me. You give me hope that our spirits can remain with the ones we love. It would make this world a far less lonely place.
To suspend all doubt and believe in this stuff, even if just for a moment, does wonders for one’s piece of mind, Jean. It helps remember him in a positive light and not just dwell on how much I miss having him around. Hope you and your family have a happy Thanksgiving.
I hope that I can have what you have when my parents pass, because the ache of not having them in the world will be almost unbearable.
You have a blessed holiday – you and your wonderful family, Darla!
I had chills reading this whole thing, DP! In the good way. That is just amazing; I’m so glad you’re able to see proof that he’s still with you, even after all this time. And I saw your comment about anatomy class (energy can’t be created or eliminated) – it’s pretty comforting in a way, isn’t it?
Thank you for sharing this with us! I can just picture your dad’s dry, Maine-y sense of humor. (Gee, I wonder why? Ha!)
Yup, I’m just like my dad. I’ve inherited his blue eyes and his sense of dry humor. Lucky me! Have you made any pumpkin pies yet? I’m making Paula Deen’s greenbean casserole tomorrow, y’all!
Yep–it was him. I loved the fuse story, and the “punky” story, but wow, the phone call was amazing. Flip phones don’t tend to accidentally call people. I remember when I first got a smartphone (that wasn’t a flip phone) and it called other people sometimes (until I figured out how to make it cut that shit out) but flip phones? No way. I’m so happy that he still touches you from another (better) place. And I hope you’re having a great Sunday.
I still doubt the cell call was my dad just a tiny bit, El. I can’t help it. But then I try to push that away and embrace the idea that maybe it REALLY was him. And that is just the best gift anyone could ever give me. How can an old flip phone call itself…and have it ring like that? doesn’t make any sense to me at all. I tried it a few times and it kept going to voice mail of course. Besides, he said he’d call me. Too much of a coincidence.
This story is so amazing. Thank you for sharing it. The Universe always listens!
Thanks for reading it. I think if we believe someone is truly listening, they’ll let you know.
Pretty powerful stuff, Darla. And even a cynic like me believes that it happened exactly as you described. And OF COURSE, it leaves me wondering what would have happened if you had answered the phone. Would you have been able to speak to him? Maybe next time…..
Misty, I have an even more unbelievable story for you. My mom swears up and down that a few weeks after my dad died, she got a phone call. Only she answered it (there were no cell phones back then) and it was all crackly-sounding. She said, “hello? hello?” and she heard a faint whisper say my dad’s name, very slowly. Yes, she claims this really happened. Back then, I totally thought she was off her rocker. Now, I’m thinking, what she said really happened. Don’t ask me how, but it did.
The story about the fuse seems familiar, because I’ve had similar things happen — objects showing up in places and in ways that are hard to explain. They seem to have been intentionally placed. It makes me wonder: If your father-in-law had stayed in the car, would he have seen that fuse just pop out of nowhere?
For what it’s worth, Darla, I think this is one of your best posts yet.
Ha! “popping out of nowhere”. That makes me laugh. It boggles the mind. Like most things, I suppose. How is it possible we can watch people on a TV screen when they’re not really in our living room? How does a phone work, transmitting our voices across a wire? How does anything work, really? It’s pretty mystical stuff. Y’know there is a theory that everything in our universe is a 3D hologram image. We are all illusions.
Did I answer your question, Charles?
by the way, say hi to your wife for me and I hope you and your family have a wonderful, stress-free Thanksgiving! (I’m not being a smart-ass here, I really mean that)
My mother was my best friend. When she needed care, she moved in here and I was her sole hospice provider, so you can imagine how it felt when she died. Bereft doesn’t come close. All I wanted, really wanted, was to feel her, to know she was okay, and… around.
My Mom always had tissues, everywhere. Rolled up in sleeves, in pockets, everywhere. And the laundry was always an issue, because she would swear she had removed them all, and yet they would be all shredded in the wash, and tissues in the wash are a nightmare. Sigh. It was a constant joke between us, “Mom, any tissues?” “No, I checked, not a one!” And sure enough, if I didn’t check… Sigh.
About a month or so after she died, I was missing her so much, and didn’t feel her, and really wanted to know if she was there, and so I begged for a sign, any sign at all.
I was doing laundry, and when I went to move the wash from the washing machine to the dryer, there was easily half a box of tissues in there. Easily. It was all my stuff, nothing of hers, and I don’t have tissues hidden anywhere.
She wanted me to know. To not have any doubt at all. And she wanted me to laugh.
She does this, still. Tissues in the laundry. Some other signs as well, but the tissues, no question on that.
And… I talk to her all the time, too. So it’s no surprise to me, none at all, that your Dad called you. Of course he did. And I’m so very, very glad.
I have the biggest chills reading your story! Amazing. Truly. And I totally believe it was your mom putting those tissues in there. I think when the deceased give us a sign, they try to make it very specific, very personal so that we will recognize it when it happens. I think using vague signs like leaving pennies around are nice, but they won’t convince a person as much as say, loads of tissues in your washer. You just know it was your mom! I love reading stories like this, thanks so much for sharing it and I’m sorry you’ve lost your mom. My dad was like my mom to me.
I really like this. I’m a Virgo, too, but am not so cynical and believe wholeheartedly that your dad is sending you signs.Isn’t that wonderful? He sounds like such a nice man, and you can tell how much you miss him in this post. It’s nice to know that he’s always around you and that you and he are picking up on signs from each other. It made me smile.
Aw, thanks so much for saying so. I sometimes think people get tired of me talking about my dad, but he was a one-of-a-kind father. He was like a mother in many respects.
I have chills–what a wonderful post–and especially from someone not prone to believe this stuff easily. Yay dad. I am going to start asking my mom and dad for signs, cause I miss them.
This was compelling reading, but I imagine living it is truly compelling. And I defy anyone to explain this phone call away.
I’ve tried to explain that call away and I just can’t. I know my husband is BIG time freaked out by it. He’s kinda used to the paranormal stuff happening around me, but this is different. You really can’t dismiss it as coincidence.
And do try and ask your parents for signs. You’ll feel absolutely silly doing so, but it’s worth a shot, right?
it is worth a shot–and it is not like I have not been silly before–you have convinced me
And remember sometimes it may be a day or two before you notice anything. But I’ve found, the more odd the sign, the more likely it’s a real sign.
What a heartfelt post. I talk to my Mom from time to time as well. I hope your Dad continues to leave you signs of his love all throughout your life.✨
Thanks, sometimes it’s good to remember them and talk to them like they’re still around (because they are) and I certainly hope your mom continues to be there for you.
How interesting, Darla. That’s pretty crazy your phone called itself!
Crazy is right, Patti. If it didn’t happen to me and I didn’t have my husband there to witness it, I wouldn’t have believed it. But either both my husband and I hallucinated at the same time or somehow my dad made that phone ring at the right moment.
Hoooleeecow! This is so wonderful and I just can’t stop thinking what if you’d have answered it?!
Clearly, love knows no limits.
Thank you so much for sharing your stories, this one especially…I’ll be thinking back on it for a very long time.
Love knows no limits. That is perfect, D. Thank you for reading and have a happy thanksgiving.
Great post Darla, you know I believe 100%.
Only yesterday I watched one of those celebrity mediums and she was reading to a guy from a boy band and the stuff she said you could find out reading a gossip mag, but he stupidly was in awe. Made me so cross after she was bigging herself up about what a drain it all is having this ‘power’, when I know there are things out there for real. and she was just milking people.
The best bit was when she was talking to a spirit called Nick or a Nicola,and someone in the audience took the bait. So they said they knew a Nick, and she then described him as standing next to her, a big hulking man and a booming voice passing a message on. Which just made me wonder how she ever confused that with a Nicola! Unless Nick liked to dress up in womens clothes and Nicola was his transvestite name…..
I knew you’d appreciate this story, Joe.
And yeah, it’s psychics like you mentioned that really give the paranormal stuff a bad name. I’ve seen some like that too, where they’re so vague and fish around for initials..”I’ve got a J name? Joe, John, Jimmy, Justin…?” then they wait until the person recognizes someone. It’s too bad. Some people really do have this gift.
J?….You would have got to James soon enough
James was my grandfather. Amazing. 🙂
It’s a gift, Joe. And a curse. Mostly a curse.
I love your Dad still reaches out to you, love is a wonderful and eternal thing.
We had a pretty close bond, Val. I was his little girl and always will be.
I don’t think parents ever stop parenting, even in the face of leaving this life for the great beyond. In any case, your post struck me more as a testament to your loving relationship with your father than it did as a piece about ghosts or paranormal activity.
Very nicely done, as usual.
Exactly, it’s more about the fact that love never dies. Thanks so much, Dave.
Don’t thank me – YOU’RE the one who wrote such a nice post.
Amazing . . . the story and that you can write about it so well. My mom died six years ago on October 11th, and I still can’t write about her. But, I did get a sign from her this year. Thank you for sharing your story! I have chills.
I’m sorry you lost your mom. How wonderful she gave you a sign this year. Maybe one day you will write about her. I have to admit, it took me nearly 20 years to get up the nerve to write about my dad. And it’s still a hard thing to do.
Darla! You will not believe this, but then again, actually, you will, ha, ha. I’ve been talking with a new special someone on the phone lately, and just a few days ago he told me a story about the home he grew up in. The house was built on an Indian burial ground, and lately his dad has been seeing what appears to the be ghost of one of the Native American women who was buried there. So, I told my friend about some of the stories you’ve told here about your dad and how he gives you signs he’s around. My friend and I met for the first time yesterday and continued to tell each other “ghost” stories of the strange and stranger still. I’m going to forward him a link to read this because the timing is just too “eerie”….or is it?! I love it, and I love that your dad continues to be with you in spirit and stays connected. He sounds like he was an amazing man when he was alive, and he’s still amazing with how he keeps in touch with you now. Thanks for sharing, girl! XOXO-Kasey
Ooh! That story gives me chills. Not sure I would want to live there though. Although, I’ve been told most spirits are ‘good’ and there’s nothing to fear. Still, it’s kind of freaky to see a ghost (I have in the past) I hope your new special someone enjoys my post and you all have a wonderful holiday.
Amazing, Darla. This post gave me chills and made me smile and cry at the same time! I’m happy to hear that your father still gives you signs to help you through the tough anniversary dates. Even though he is not here in a physical body, it’s so clear that he has never really left you in a spiritual sense.
My grandpa’s spirit woke me up the very minute he passed away. (I don’t know if you were reading my blog at the time or not, but I awoke with a start and starting saying a prayer in the middle of the night, only to find out the next morning that my grandpa had passed away.) I also get visits in my dreams from the dog we used to take care of. I absolutely adored her, so she comes to reassure me (and get lots of pets) every now and then while I am asleep. We are all connected in ways we might not be able to understand in a rational sense, but not being able to make sense of it doesn’t mean we’re not intertwined!
Yes, I will never forget your story about your grandpa, Dana. I think these connections we have with our relatives and our pets are so strong, that it isn’t hard to imagine they continue on forever. It only makes sense to me. Why doubt something that is such a good thing? Why not believe it may be possible?
I just loved these signs Darla. I’ve never had anything like that happen to me, but now I wonder if maybe it had and I didn’t make the connection.
I think a lot of times we don’t notice these things or brush them off. I know I do. If you start paying attention, you might catch something.
I believe as well. Having lost my father when I was 11, there have been many things that I don’t normally talk about for fear of being suspected as being a little nutty, but I know what they mean. And I say, ‘Thanks Dad.’ It is reassuring in a way. Happy Thanksgiving Darla. Maybe that is what he was calling to say.
Yeah, even I have stories I refuse to tell here, Renee. I will keep those private where they belong. Hope you also have a happy Thanksgiving. It was my dad’s favorite holiday.
Darla, I hope you will not mind hearing, what I am going to say next. Because that same line I’ve said you one month earlier. But let me say it again. It was one of your best post yet and this time let me tell you, it’s going to be really difficult for you to come up with something better than this beautiful piece of writing.
Honestly, you share a beautiful bond with your father. And I believe it’s a bond that two souls share. So your soul is still in touch with that soul of your father, whom you love and trust so much. It’s all there in the belief. I have so many such stories to share. But unfortunately I do not have many people who believe that things like do happen. But I am glad you dare to share these beautiful experiences with us.
And Happy thanks giving to you and your family, Darla!
Thanks so much for these sweet comments. What’s funny is this writing just came out of me in one big rush, I didn’t even stop to think about what I was trying to say. I suppose, that means it was straight from the heart. When talking about the man my dad was, it just comes out easily. I really wish you would share some of your stories, but I understand if you don’t. I have more that I will probably never write about. But I’m so happy you enjoyed this one.
Yes, while reading this post that same line came to my mind too, that “it was straight from your heart”. Might be that’s why I just loved this piece of writing. And I know I am not that good or intelligent to suggest you something. But Darla, I can request you, why do not you write a short book on this special bond you share with your father. People who believe in relationships, are going to love that book. I hope you will seriously think about my request.
I appreciate the suggestion. I would love to write a book on something, someday. (and you are beyond good or intelligent enough, silly.)
Getting chills, Darla.
I don’t know if people come back to talk to us after death…I just don’t know, but I don’t ever discount those who have had experiences like you have.
I believe with all my heart that (most) people go on to a better life with God when they die and that you will be with your dad again some day. I hope your great memories of such a wonderful, wonderful man are a comfort to you
thanks, Peg. I believe the same thing with all my heart. I hope you and your family have a sweet Thanksgiving. Good to see you around WP again! I’ve missed you!
Wow. You probably didn’t see my post from yesterday. I wrote about the same thing (my MIL very recently passed), only not quite as freaky-deaky as yours. Yes! I do believe in signs from beyond. I think it’s awesome that you and your dad are still connected in that way. That, and it makes for some awesome blog posts. Happy Thanksgiving, Darla! I hope you got my email…
I didn’t read yours yet. Can’t wait to. I did get your email and expect me to call you say…. 1 or 2 pm-ish? I’ll be in the middle of trying to make Paula Deen’s green bean casserole without using three sticks of butter. wish me luck! Also, I am sick with a cold so I might sound like Redd Foxx on the phone. Sorry in advance.
Can’t wait. Redd Foxx with a Darla sense-o-humor…that’d be a day-maker for sure.
..wow. i can’t even think of losing my dad, ever and this post made me smile, and feel sad and shiver slightly all at the same time! In a good way. Your dad will always be there, in his way 🙂
Thanks so much. I do believe that is true.
Wow, I love my grandparents who raised me. Whenever I am in a quandary their words always keep coming into my ears. I never saw it as a sign but always thought it was because I spent so many years close to them. Now I will look deeper.
It’s certainly worth a deeper look. Maybe that feeling they’re around you really means they are around you. (I like to think so!)
I’m all about science and things you can prove. But I do believe in things like your dad’s signs. I’ve experienced many unexplained things, including a psychic telling me a dark haired man named Mark would be a very special person to me someday, two years before I met and married a dark haired man named Mark.
Loved reading these stories! Your dad sounds like you! Hope the anniversary passed peacefully for you.
Once, I also had a psychic tell me a dark haired man named Mark would come into my life one day.
She was pretty vague though….something about him patrolling the dark streets of suburbia in the wee hours of the morning, shining a beacon of geekdom with the coolest hat ever constructed by man.
y’know, in my effort to be somewhat funny, I missed telling you thank you for saying my dad sounds like me. I really am just like him! best compliment ever, Angie.
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This post gave me chills! Wow! I definitely believe in our loved ones giving us “signs” from beyond. Your dad is watching over you for sure!
Thanks, Jean. I am fairly certain of it now.
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i stumbled over from Renee’s blog – nice post. My dad has been gone for over three years and I still have ‘dad’ programmed in my cell phone. It’s really my step-mom, but I have an aversion to changing it. It sounds like you and he had a wonderful relationship. I hear my dad, too from time to time. I have re-read some old letters from growing up and I can still hear the message today. thanks for sharing. perhaps this post is a sign for me as well. have a great day, make it count!
Thanks so much for the kind comments, Clay. I’m sorry you’ve lost your dad as well. I often look at old photos of him so I can remember what he looked like, because it’s been so long. I can almost remember his voice if I try hard enough. Thanks for visiting me from over at Renee’s blog.
My mom died two years ago, and I have gotten little signs that I believe are her. We came home one day on our anniversary and I noticed the clock above the fireplace (battery operated) was an hour and 15 minutes behind. I thought the battery was going. Until I noticed the clock in the kitchen (also battery operated) was reading exactly the same time. An hour and 15 minutes behind. All of the other clocks in the house read the right time. The clock at my sisters bridal shower also was quirky. It was right during the first part of the shower, and then read the wrong time towards the end (about an hour and 15 behind). The latest sign – I have these three Willow Angel figurines in my bedroom. A big tall one that my mom gave me, a smaller angel and another one that is holding a candle. I gave the one that is holding a candle to my mom when she was diagnosed with cancer because it was the angel of hope. When I walked into my room one day, the angel of hope figurine was turned all the way around and facing the big tall one my mom gave me. 🙂