Bambina and I slept over at my Mom's house the other night. My Mom and I slept in her bed, which of course used to be her and my dad's bed. She sleeps on his side of the bed now, so I was on hers. As I was closing my eyes I could hear my mind saying, "Well, Dad if you are anywhere, you are definitely here, so if you want to chat with me, feel free. I'd love to see you again." I fell asleep.
So, of course, as always happens when you wish to connect with your deceased parent from the beyond, who shows up but.....Angelina Jolie. Yup. Fell asleep and dreamed about Angelina Jolie, a person I have never in my life really thought of awake much less asleep. (Unlike several men [and women!] I know...)
She was walking me through a strange building when we came to a door with a big window in it. I looked through and my there was my Dad waving at me, smiling, and saying hello. By which I mean waving when he could tear himself away from doing his pow-wow dance in his turquoise native american tea-length smock dress with matching mid-calf moccasin boots.
You can't make this stuff up, folks. Oh wait; you can! Anyway, I looked through the window at him, so happy to see him so happy and having so much fun and so physically fit and nimble and dancing, although consciously thinking, "he always said turquoise is 'a woman's color' and not for real men to wear..."
Angelina made me leave the building after a couple of minutes, so we stood outside for a while leaning on a big blue mailbox. By which I mean that she leaned on the mailbox with her elbow while all 5'2" of me leaned up against it craning my neck to talk to her. I started to cry and said that I wanted to go back and see him some more. She said, "Well, see, that's exactly why it's a bad idea for people in heaven to visit. It doesn't make it easier, it just makes you want more and more. The first visit doesn't give you peace; it makes you want a second visit and a third visit, and that's not good for you." I reluctantly agreed. She handed me a VHS video tape of my dad doing his powwow dance in his turquoise smock, and said, "you've got the video right here; you don't need to see through the window again in real life. He's dancing, and you've got two girls who need you to dance with THEM."
Then I woke up (I think), jumped out of bed, walked into my mom's kitchen and picked up my cell phone thinking it was morning and time to get in the shower. The time said "1:48." Which was the exact time back in February that I called my mom and sister to say that my dad was going to be intubated (we had been doing shifts at night with him in the hospital and that was my shift). Shortly thereafter was the last time my Dad spoke to me.
So, what do I think about all this? Well, I haven't told anyone because I don't want them to think I'm a psycho. On the one hand, it seems like a fitting narrative from JP: I'm sure, in selecting a messenger he would no doubt have Miz Jolie high on his list, since I'm sure Sophia Loren and Raquel Welch [ie, full-lipped, full-figured women] were busy with other bereaved children that night. I'm sure he would have picked turquoise specifically to tell me that he is no longer the person he was here on earth. He wears 'women's colors' and he's happy to be wherever he is, healthy and vibrant. And I'm certain he'd want me to have a VHS tape because who the hell needs to spend money on a DVD player when you've got a good old VCR already?! On the other hand, I'm not sure I believe in John Edwards/James Van Praagh type stuff, and I'm definitely sure I don't want to sound like them!
But whether it was indeed my Dad or whether it was just my subconscious mind telling me something I already knew, the message was a good one to receive: Stop looking for things you can't and shouldn't have. Focus on the people who need you right now in real life. And wear a turquoise smock if you damn well feel like it. :)