I think this may be connected with the event I posted back in May called Flying Flowers Broken Vase, which is why I decided to title this a continuation of that happening.
On May 17th, a vase that had belonged to my dad, filled with flowers flew off the top of my curio cabinet breaking. I found all the pieces, except for a tiny part of the lip, and glued it back together as best I could. Now that piece was nowhere to be found, and I really looked for it.
The first week of August my roommate decided to host a BBQ, here at the house. Even though it was an outdoor event, you know that someone will need to use the restroom or something, so of course the apartment was cleaned with extra care. (I'm one of those people who gets a bit paranoid about appearances when company is coming - especially folks that I do not know.) Since he had invited 22 people from his church, all strangers to me (different faith, then my own) I was a bit more anxious than normal, so a bit more zealous in the cleaning. His church is already not too keen on him living with a non-related female, and not of 'the faith', even though I am old enough to be his mom and we have separate rooms, so I felt there would be some judging going on. Evidently, it was decided that I'm not some lecherous old heathen and the afternoon passed pleasantly enough.
Fast forward - I am walking sock-footed through the kitchen and I feel something beneath my heel, I was shocked to find it was the missing lip piece of the vase! The floors had been swept and vacuumed, I don't know how many times since that day back in May, yet here it was! I was perplexed, but happy about the find. I placed it with the vase and got ready for bed.
I'm what is called a 'still sleeper'. Once, I'm comfy, I move very little, if at all, until I wake up. The result of this is my bed seldom needs to be remade, just straightened a bit. Seriously, no rumpled sheets or blankets - it usually looks more turned-down then slept in. Because it has been so hot and we don't have air conditioning, I've been sleeping on top of the comforter, so in the morning I really only need to re-align the pillows; I have two. So there I am, lying on my tummy, all comfy and congratulating myself on everyone having a good time, and apparently passing mustard, when for no apparent reason my dad pops into my head. In like two seconds an entire conversation fires itself off. This was not my usual 'audio', but within my head very weird for me. But then my dad was a very weird person, so I guess that makes some kind of sense. He said, "You got the piece." To which I replied, I had, and thanks for finding it. And then he said, "I know it was rough on you growing up, and I didn't make it any easier. I'm sorry." "I know, Dad. But now I want to sleep. Ok?" Nothing. Just silence. I laid there a bit longer, thinking that was really weird, and wondering the why as I slid off to sleep.
In the morning I woke thinking it was an odd dream. Like I said very different from my usual 'conversations', when I noticed my bed felt very odd. I opened my eyes, and turned onto my side to find all my bedclothes had been stripped from my bed! I'm saying, the comforter, blanket, sheets (even the fitted one) had been removed! Not just knotted up in a tangle at the foot, but completely off and folded up, laying on top of a box perhaps four feet away. But both my pillows were on the bed with me, in their usual positions. Talk about a WTH moment. I can think of no possible explanation for this. Since I'm also a light sleeper, how the heck were they taken without waking me? My bed is a day bed, if you're familiar with them, they're difficult to make and just as hard to strip. Extracting the comforter, blanket, and linens would have woken me. They're all 'pinched' between the back board and mattress so tugging them free isn't exactly easy either. I can barely fold a fitted sheet when awake, so I'm very doubtful I could in my sleep. Yet there everything was all neatly folded in a pile... Now, I figure my Dad was either ticked I'd rather sleep then commune with him, OR he wanted to leave a sign it wasn't just a dream or imagination. With him either is possible.
I'm never really sure what to say about my dad. There's still a lot of hurt from back then. Even though in his latter years we formed a type of relationship, I could never bring myself to trust him, not fully.
I do know that if while he was alive I had dared breathe a word of how he really was and he got wind of it - well, there'd be hell to pay comes to mind, and he did have his ways of exacting 'payment'. So there might be something to your theory.