been over ten years since my father's suicide, and I still
cherish a "gift" that was sent to me while I attended
his memorial service. I remember asking God more than once,
before the service, to send me a sign that my father was all
right, that he was in a better place now.
while I stood with my family in the funeral home, I heard
a man's voice from behind me and to the right say, "Looks
like you're doing well, considering what you've been through."
to my right quickly, to acknowledge whoever had spoken, but
no one was there. No one! There was nothing behind me but
an empty couch. When I turned back again, I noticed a man
I didn't recognize, about thirty years old, dressed in plain,
brown slacks and matching short-sleeved brown shirt. He was
attractive, with close-cut brown hair, and he wasn't wearing
a coat or hat, which struck me as odd since it was a bitterly
cold and windy day.
stranger passed by me, I felt transfixed by his vibrant presence
and the warm, soft golden glow that enveloped him. My eyes
assessed the differences between "him" and "us,"
and I concluded that everything in the room was dim and gray-toned,
lacking luster and substance compared to this man, who was
alive and vibrant with joy, dressed in what I thought of as
his "earth suit."
we were all feeling torn by grief, he was full of life and
wearing an expansive smile. I instantly felt this man's love-the
love that flowed from him towards me! Its presence was profound.
It was tangible, amazing, healing, enticing and unfathomable;
it radiated across the room and touched my heavy heart.
a few moments, he'd made his way through the throng, past
my grandmother's wheelchair, to the area where my father's
remains had been placed. He lingered for an extra moment near
the flowers and plants, then spotted the Teddy bear that I
had made for my father. When this joyous man turned and faced
me and smiled, I knew that he knew me in a way that was beyond
my chance to ask him who he was, because someone spoke off
to my right and I turned for a mere second to follow those
words which, this time, were not directed at me. When I turned
back in the next second to find him again, he was gone-vanished-something
which was impossible on foot, as he'd have had to walk back
through the crowd to reach the door.
know how this happened. But I do know that, "
doing well, considering what you've been through," plays
through my memory nearly every day. And I'm always encouraged
by that message and the love he radiated towards me.
Jan. 27, 2009