Dick Says Hi

I'm a big believer in life after death. It gives me comfort to think that those I have loved here on earth are still around me in some form or other once they have passed away. It's been almost 4 weeks already since my dad's death, and in that short time, my mom and sister have had three things happen that I think cannot be overlooked.

First of all, they went grocery shopping. When they got home and unloaded the bags, there was a bottle of Pinot Noir wine that neither of them had put in the cart while shopping, or taken out of the cart at the checkout. It was also not on the receipt. My dad always bought the wine, and Pinot Noir is the type my mom drinks.

Second of all, my sister went into my dad's office just a couple of hours before we were to bury him. She was looking for one thing, but instead came across this poem:

To be read when I go to heaven:

Dear God how kind you are to me,
To give me all earth's beauty free.
The birds to sing through all my life,
The flowers to bloom on roads of strife.
The great outdoors where I may roam,
And then a path that leads me home.
A sky of every shade and hue,
And then Dear god, to give me you.

Do you know what the end of a perfect day
Can mean to a tired heart?
When the sun goes down with a flaming ray,
And dear friends have to part.
Well this is the end of that perfect day,
And the end of a journey too.
But it leaves a thought that is big and strong,
With a wish that is kind and true.
For memories have painted this perfect day,
With colors that will never fade.
And we find at the end of this wonderful day,
The souls of the friends that we have made.

-Sylvia

Needless to say, we found it just in time to read it at the grave site.

Finally, we were in Chicago this weekend. On the train ride home, the train stopped outside of Union Station and there was a lot with a bunch of semi trailers parked there. Right in front of my mom's window was a white trailer, painted in big red letters was, "Dick Says Hi".

Now I know that if my dad was still alive, no one may have even noticed these things. My mom may have felt bad for the person in line ahead of her at the grocery store who got home to find that the bagger forgot their bottle of wine. If my sister was in my dad's office getting a pen and saw that poem, she may have read it and thought it was nice and then never thought about it again. And if my mom was on a train coming home from Chicago, she may have never even noticed the lot full of semi trailers let alone read what any of them said.

But the fact-of-the-matter is that my dad is not alive anymore so to us these are more than just coincidences. And for me, as my father, I knew he was always looking out for me. So for me, as his daughter, I believe that he always will.