Peeking Through A Hole In Heaven's Fence

In my dream Dad says he likes Heaven because he gets to be himself. Really himself. He finds it exciting. His eyes light up and I know he's just fascinated by the entire process. But he has come back because he felt his presence was needed.

He says it's not like he can see what we’re doing all the time. Heaven is not filled with dead relatives, all with their eyes glued to a live video cam of their left-behind family members. There's no wooden fence in Heaven where you can peep through a hole to see all the activity below.

In last night's dream, Heaven is not omnipresent nor omnicient. Dad just felt needed and so he arrived.

This is sooo Dad. Always looking after everyone else. I reckon old habits die hard.

He’s also come to straighten out one of Mom’s bills. Something to do with a changed account number, he says. He apparently is the only one who knows he changed the account number, thus he had to come back and tie up this one loose end.

We are in a store when he tells me this, on their busiest sale day of the year. “You’ll never get any help with this today,” I tell him. But being Dad, he of course does.

In my dream Mom and Sister Flea are setting a table for lunch with Dad’s brother and his wife. The doorbell rings and there is a sudden flurry of activity as they rush to finish their last second tweaks and greet their company. “See,” Dad says. “It’s been good for her. She never would’ve done this for herself before.” True that, I think.

I know somehow, he has also come to see about me, because things are so bad, because my life feels like a shit storm of bad events and missing him. “Really, how did you know I needed you?” I ask him.

“I just knew.”

That's how it is in Heaven, I suppose. You are more yourself and you just know when someone down below needs you.

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