Saying Goodbye To Daddy

I had always been a daddy's girl, he was my hero, my protector and my confidant. Even as an adult I knew that if something went wrong my daddy would fix it.

I had known for years that he was ill, I also knew fully well that he wasn't telling me everything.

Our relationship suffered when I grew older. I was every bit as hard headed and egotistical as my daddy was, sometimes apologizing and confessing our guilt to one another was just hopeless and undoable. Tragically, we would sometimes go for weeks without speaking to one another. Eventually one of us would give in and break the silence. We would laugh and tease each other about being stubborn and bullheaded.

"You get it from me, and I get it from my ol' man - We come by it honestly." he'd say.

When I got the call that he had died - for a moment my entire world stopped moving. I had so many questions and so many concerns. "Was he upset with me when he died?" - "Did he know how much that I truly loved him?"

I would walk outside at night just to be alone and stare up at the sky. For some reason I felt closer to him when the moon was bright and the stars were twinkling above my head.

I couldn't depend on him anymore. It was time for me to step up and finally act like an adult - I had to save myself now. I was facing the open road of life without the safety and comfort that he had always provided.

I knew that there would forever be a sad, empty place inside of me that nobody else could ever touch or fill. When I lost my daddy, I lost a part of myself that I could never regain. - I would absolutely never be the same.

Dealing with this enormous loss was harder than I expected it to be. I tried to sleep as much as I possibly could. That's a coward's escape - sleeping. When you are just too spineless and pusillanimous to face reality - you sleep.

I began having vivid - lucid dreams about my daddy. Sometimes we were walking along the creek bank smiling and laughing. Sometimes I reverted back to my childhood when we would joke around and play ridiculous pranks on each other. Eventually those promising dreams slowly become more dark and somber. He wasn't smiling and laughing anymore. I'd wake up frightened and horror-struck.

For so long I had depended on those dreams to bring him back to me. I had even convinced myself that dreaming provided a doorway for him to slip through and visit with me. - Why was he suddenly so angry?

"No one may enter the dead man's party!" Those words still send chills down my spine. That was the first of the nightmares. I was standing in the hospital alone in a dark room. In front of me was a bed covered with a clean, white sheet. Suddenly my daddy raised up - he turned to me with an eerie, torpid movement and spoke those words to me. -What did it mean? I searched the internet, I searched the library and even resorted to asking empathetic friends. If it was a message, it was one that nobody had ever heard of before.

Dreadfully, his angry visits were becoming more and more common. It was getting harder for me to wake myself up and escape. I felt as if I was being forewarned about something ghastly and formidable.

I didn't want to sleep so much anymore. To be perfectly honest, I didn't want to see my daddy anymore. I took on the night shift at work just to keep myself awake and busy. I started drinking coffee and energy drinks. The thought of having another nightmare - of seeing him again...was absolutely abhorrent.

The less that I slept, the more strange and unusual things started to happen during the waking hours. I witnessed objects move by themselves. I heard strange, unexplainable sounds. I even began seeing my daddy all throughout the day. In a car passing by - In line at the grocery store - Amongst a group of strangers walking down the street. Was I being haunted by the man that I had spent my life adoring and loving unconditionally? Why would he do this to me?

The final and ultimate episode happened while I was driving home one morning. The car was getting stuffy and warm, I rolled down the window for some cool, fresh air - to no avail. I immediately assumed that I was having an anxiety attack. I had never had one before, but I had heard about them and I was having all of the classic symptoms. Hot flashes - Sweating - Heart Pounding - Dizzy.

I quicky pulled over and got out of the car. The air was completely gone. I was gasping and choking and no matter how hard that I tried - I could not catch my breath. I felt my body fall against the car as if someone had shoved me. I could feel inconspicuous fingers tightening around my throat. I was sliding down onto the ground heaving and hyperventilating.

I woke up in the hospital, a passing car had witnessed what was happening and called an ambulance. Still to this day I can't remember exactly what happened. I assumed that I had blacked out however the doctors assured me that I was awake and alert when I arrived. - "Your father told us that you hadn't been sleeping." the doctor mentioned. "My father?" I was thunderstruck. "Yes he came in the ambulance with you." he replied. "That's impossible, my father is dead." I finally mumbled. I can't be for certain what was going through that doctors mind but he ordered enough sleeping medication to knock out a horse. - It felt like I had slept for days.

That was the most peaceful, calm and serene sleep that I had ever experienced. There was no more nightmares, no more unearthly visions or fear...just total peace.

My daddy came to see me one more time while I was in the hospital. He was happy, beautiful and kind just as I remembered. He sat down in the chair beside of my bed and looked directly into my soul.

"Let me go! Don't die for the dead, you have to keep living for YOU!"

I watched as he walked out of the room, tears filled my eyes and I was attempting to speak when he turned and said.

"Don't make me come back again!"

Some people believe in spirits and their ability to come back to us when we need them. Some people don't believe and would say that it was all in my mind or that I was nearing a nervous breakdown...

I don't know - Maybe there is some truth within both of those equations.

I believe that it was simply a daddy's way of continuing to take care of his little girl. He could see that I was using my dreams to escape the reality of losing him. I was sleeping my life away...dying slowly with him.

The nightmares were to wake me up and put me back within the world of the living, but when that didn't work...he found a way to give me peace. Sometimes a daddy has to show a heavy hand before his child will listen.

- "I always was just as bullheaded as him."