Hey everyone,
It's been quite sometime time since I've been on here.
I kind of stepped away from the paranormal for a while when my dad's cancer came back. That's the reason I'm writing this, to share the experiences I've had during and after the dying process. For anyone that's been next to a loved one that was dying, they may agree that many strange occurrences happen.
In February of 2021 my dad went in to have his vocal cords removed due to cancer. The operation was successful. Things were tough due to communication issues, but he was alive and seemed to be healthier than ever. That's all that matters.
Unfortunately that following November when he went in to get his second follow up biopsy, they found that his cancer had metastasized to his right kidney and in the course of the three month gap between biopsies it progressed to stage 4.
On the night of June 17, 2022 my mom texted me that my dad said he was going. I rushed over. He held on for seven more days.
During those days the atmosphere felt so heavy. Even while alone it always felt like you were in a crowded room. You'd hear someone pacing the hallway when everyone at the house was in my father's room. You'd hear faint conversations when no one was talking. Doors that would be opened after you know you closed them.
One night we were all with my dad sharing memories and joking around to keep the mood as light as you can in such a situation. The basic stuff. I was leaning against my mom's dresser when I felt something hit me lightly on the side of my bicep. I look all around me to find what it was. Nothing. So I ask if someone just threw something at me. No one said they did. The best way to describe what it felt like was if someone took a balled up piece of paper and played with it until it was very soft and tossed it at you. After discussing it, we all seemed to realize at the same time that my grandmother used to playfully punch me in that same spot. It gave me both chills and joy at the thought she was saying hey.
Another encounter happened to my younger sister, she was in her room when she suddenly smelt burning sage and then sweet grass. Then she heard a man say something. She immediately recognized the voice belonging to my dad's friend that passed suddenly many years ago (I've talked about him in a previous story, he was Native American, same as my dad).
Though out that week many of us on different occasions saw a shadow figure that would peek its head around the threshold of my dad's bedroom door. It didn't have the shape of anyone any of us recognized so no one could really agree as to who or what it was. A friend of my sisters believed it was something malevolent. But I didn't and still don't think so. During this time we were able to communicate with dad through yes and no questions. We'd ask if a person that we knew who had passed was there and he nod or shake his head accordingly. We gathered through this that both my grandparents and three family friends that had passed were there, but also someone he didn't know, but said wasn't a threat. That's why I believe the figure was a guide from the other side.
On June 24, 2022 at 10:45am my dad took his final breath. He was 70 years old. The moment he left, all the heaviness that had been there all week seemed to also leave, but the experiences stayed and took on a new feeling.
About an hour and a half after he had passed, I was outside with my sister, our cousin and my sister's friend when we heard a car door shut. This particular door shutting can't be mistaken, it was the driver's side door to my dad's 1968 Chevy C-10 pickup truck. It had belonged to my grandfather before he passed. My dad loved this truck. It has been sitting not running for a long while. Just days before my dad died, my nephew decided to get it running again and gave it a wash. We think my dad was taking one last look.
A few nights after, another of our friends was walking to the kitchen when he suddenly heard a voice say his name behind him.
He's not really a believer but he insists the voice he heard was dad's. On another night I was sitting on the back steps and he was standing in front of me talking when he jumps and says that he just glanced at the screen door and saw my dad's silhouette standing there.
Fast forward a couple of months, things got bad financially and I had to move back to my parents' house. My mom doesn't sleep in the bedroom anymore so I moved into it. Same room/bed my dad passed in. On occasion when I'm trying to get to sleep I feel someone lay next to me, in the spot my dad laid. Sometimes I'll feel someone grab my big toe and yank it, something my dad used to always do. One day I went to pick up my phone and as I pulled it toward me it felt like someone tried to pull it out my hand. It didn't feel aggressive and in that instant I had a mental imagine of my dad grinning.
It took me a few months to finally feel something after his passing. After he had passed I didn't feel. I was numb. I didn't cry or anything. Then one day it hit me full force. But it wasn't sadness that over came me, it was anger. It was hatred. I'm not a hateful person, but in that moment I hated all the doctors and nurses that had worked with my dad. I hated their "lies" that he would be alright. I hated them for not stopping the cancer like they'd promised. I hated God for allowing this. And as bad as it sounds, I hated my dad simply because he'd died. I wanted so bad to punch him square in the jaw. To cuss him out for not stopping smoking when he was told to stop 18 years ago. I remember looking at a picture of him and just yelling "F you! You stupid S.O.B! F you!" Just yelling "F you" over and over until finally the tears came and I cried my self to sleep. It was around 3am when I woke up to someone walking around the room. I hear the steps walk to one side and what sounded like someone going through things, then the steps would walk to the other side of the room and again things being gone through.
I had a fish tank that I kept the light on at night, so I could see I was alone. So I sit up and mutter, "What the hell?". Then as clear as day I hear my dads voice say, "It's me, Bud. It's ok to be angry" followed by something I couldn't make out.
A few nights ago it cooled down outside to 68 degrees so I decided to go out and walk the property. I don't know why but I grabbed my Spirit Talker, those little boxes that displays a word and a computer voice says the word. As I was walking I turned it on and a short while later it started talking:
Box: (my dads name)
Me: what about (dads name)?
Box: Honest
Me: what's he honest about?
Box: trees
My dad was Native American. He was a story teller and one of his main talking points was about Mother Earth and how the trees play an important role in life and how we should respect them and honor nature.
Me: where is (dads name)?
Box: come and go
Me: why does he come and go?
Box: Happy
Being a skeptical believer I take those boxes with a grain of salt, but I couldn't help but get a tad emotional.
This is the longest post I've made. I may have added things that may seem unnecessary, but I felt them necessary to put some of the things I experienced into context.
Thank you for reading.
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