Dad's Last Message

When I was young, I used to enjoy music. I was 9 when my Dad (strongly encouraged by my Mum) bought me a guitar. He mumbled a lot because he thought that I would be interested for a short time then would let it down and in the 50s, a guitar was expensive. I finally got it and started to play. I was lucky because I had a good ear and learned fast.

Moving a few years later, I had started to work and did not have much money. But my interest into playing the guitar had brought me to sometime play with friends in small pubs and restaurants. I wanted to buy an electric guitar but I had a very limited budget. Then, one day, I saw an ad in the newspapers. Someone was selling his Rickenbaker. That was a great opportunity which I did not want to miss. I phoned the guy and arranged an appointment with him to go to his place to see and try the guitar.

He was staying in the capital, Port Louis, and it was a bit tricky to find his house. It was a sunny Saturday morning, it was hot and I was walking and trying to figure out from his explanations on the phone where he was staying. I was lost and asked my way from people on the street. After 2 unsuccessful requests, I met with a mid aged man dressed with casual clothes. He was a colored guy with large curly hair and grey eyes (quite rare among creole people). I asked my way to go to the guy who was selling his guitar and he gave the exact direction. I was actually not far.

As I was thanking him he said to me: "Tell Tony not to sell his grandma's cameo (kind of sculpted brooch) and to take good care of Medor. Tell him also that dad is doing well and proud of him." Before I could ask him more explanation, he walked away and disappeared among the people on the street. I just stood there on the side of the street, trying to figure out what he told me and where he had gone. The street was quite busy and the noise of the cars and people walking by me made me resume my "quest" to find that guy's place.

I found it quite easily thanks to the explanations of the mid aged man.

The guy I was going to meet with was named Didier. Therefore, I was a bit surprised when the mid aged man said "tell Tony..." Anyway, I knocked on the door and I was welcomed by a young man. As we were shaking hands on his doorstep, he asked me if it had been difficult for me to find his house. I told him that I got lost but thanks to a gentleman I met on the street, I found the exact direction to his home, then I told him that it was funny because the guy had asked me to transmit a message. I repeated what the mid aged man told me. Didier just looked at me with his eyes wide open and asked me to repeat. I told him the message again. He asked me who told me to transmit that message. I gave to him the description of this mid aged man (curly hair, grey eyes, etc...) and I saw a mix of panic, fear, misunderstanding and unbelief (this is what I felt then and which I still remember today vividly).

He asked me with a louder voice tone, where I had met this man. I tried to explain to him and asked if there was a problem. He grabbed my arm and ran to the street asking me to show him where I met this guy. I ran after him and we finally arrived at the spot I met with the man. He looked around with much intensity and asked me to show the direction of where the guy had gone. We spent maybe 30 to 45 minutes on the streets but never found the guy.

We finally came back to his home and he seemed upset and finished. We did not talk when going back to his place. As we reached his home I told him that maybe I should come back another day and leave him alone. I was also quite shocked about what had happen. I was still not understanding his reaction. He asked me to come in.

His house was simple but neat. He asked me to sit. Then he went to a shelf and brought a framed picture and asked me if it was the man I had met. Indeed, it seemed it was the same man but he looked younger on the photo with short hair and a mustache. However, the clear eyes (it was a black and white photo) were definitely his. I said that he indeed looked very similar to the mid aged man I had met. Then he said that it was his father who had passed away a bit more than a week ago. When I heard this, I felt hot than cold and felt as if my chest and neck got tight. I was shocked. I remember saying to Didier: "but I talked to him just now"!

Didier said that his (Didier) nickname was Tony and only his Dad would call him that way. His mother had passed away some years ago when he was a child and was raised mainly by his Dad and grandmother. He was very close to his Dad and although the Dad seemed a mid aged man, he was in his late 50s when he died.

His grandmother was sick and old and he was the only one taking care of her. He was young but adult and had completed his studies. He was working in the State telephone company.

Because he was the only one taking care of his grandmother, he had decided to sell his guitar and his grandmother's cameo to get some more money. His Dad had brought a dog a few month ago and named him Medor. Didier was not particularly very close to the dog and had thought of maybe giving him to someone else.

He then asked me to give a description of the man I met again and could not believe it was surely his Dad. I was also in a state of unbelief and got the chills being seated in that home. He offered me a drink and we chatted a bit more. But we had long periods of silence, each of us being lost in our thoughts and surely still under shock. We nearly forgot the guitar as I said bye. I finally bought it and came back to collect it another day with a car.

This experience really shook me more than those who seemed more scary and which I have related on this site. It made me think differently about life and death.

For a long time, I felt as if he was in the corner of a street or a room about to come out and talk to me. I even avoided going out at night for a long time until I felt more in peace and the shock of this experience had disappeared.

Also, the message I transmitted to Didier on behalf of his "Dad" made him change his plans. His grandma passed away not long after his Dad.

I lost contact with him but heard later that he had migrated to Australia.