I have had a few paranormal experiences myself along with everyone in my family. I believed in ghosts since I was a little girl, because I guess it's always just been a part of me growing up.
My father passed away in 2016 from a small-celled stomach cancer, he was diagnosed in 2015. I had less than a year with him really. To be honest I didn't want to say this but, we didn't exactly have a good relationship, it felt like we didn't have any relationship at all. He didn't feel like a father nor did he act much like one, but he fed us and sheltered us and did all his fatherly duties. So I guess what I'm trying to say is I never felt like I was loved by him, nor did I feel like an important part of his life. I know this doesn't sound like a ghost story yet, but please bear with me. I also have to say that he didn't exactly enjoy his family life, because he wanted to be single, but due to culture, was in an arranged marriage. My dad died in 2016 in Sri Lanka, because he wanted to try a treatment there. We had his funeral there and essentially all of his belongings were there at this point.
After the funeral we came back to Australia, and tried to put our lives back together. But I felt broken inside because although we didn't have much of a relationship I missed him, and expected him to walk in through the day any moment. Anyway, I was having a really hard time in school, because my mind just wasn't up to it yet, it couldn't cope, so my grades started falling. However, I had this one subject that I truly loved, art. It was the only time I ever connected with my dad because he loved art too.
So 2 years later, my grade were still falling and I felt alone in most ways. One day, when I was asleep, I guess in my dream I had woken up to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. But when I switched on the lights, my dad was sitting on the sofa, like he usually does. Except the last time I had seen him the cancer had eaten away at him and he genuinely looked like a zombie. But at that moment he looked jolly, with meat on his bones, he had an unusual glow to him and he looked the most happiest I've ever seen him in my entire life. Usually I'd be scared even if it was a dream, but I wasn't. I felt a sense of peace and I just looked at him. I didn't even feel sad. It just felt like a normal day. Then he asked me what I was doing and I told him I was getting water. He then asked me how I was doing with my studies and I said I was doing okay. He told me to bring my art diary to him and I did. He was the first person to ever look through my art diary, and I remember looking at his facial expression the entire time, and he looked so proud. I hadn't seen that look for a very long time and it made me feel almost euphoric. He looked back up at me adoringly and said you are doing well. And then in my dream my mother called for me to bring her a glass of water. But I looked back at my dad, unsure, because I felt that if I left then I wouldn't see him a again. He nodded at me and said go get her a water. So I took one final look at him and went to give her water. When I came back from my mother's room, unsurprisingly my dad wasn't there but the art diary was still resting on the sofa. After that I woke up and looked at the time, it was 1:13 am.
The next day I woke up and told my mum, because I always talk to her about things. She asked my what time it was around and I said 1:13am. Her eyes widened and she told me that she had woken up exactly at the time because she heard the gate in the front of our house open and close. Then when she was about to fall back asleep, a car had screeched into a halt just in front of our house. According to my culture, this actually happens when a ghost passes over to the next world.
I thought about this long and hard. And only 1 year after that experience did I realise that he had actually came to say goodbye. He hadn't just come to visit me, he had come to comfort me at a time no one else could. He came to tell me I was doing well which I was something I was desperate to hear from my mother. I only realised that before he passed on, he had only said goodbye to me out of my brother and my mother. It hurt to think about it now because I had loathed him so much. I felt like I had lost the chance to tell him that I loved him. And I feel like I would never see him again which makes me even more sad, because I want to know if he's okay now, if he's happier now. I feel like I'm just angry at myself at this point, because I feel like I had tried to understand him better or tried a little harder to get closer to him, I wouldn't have loathed him as much.
I'm sorry for the long story! I know it became less about ghosts but I felt like letting it out, because it was bothering me for so long.