Two days after the passing of my loving father, I had an extremely clear dream of us walking together.
The setting was in Boston’s old north station in the wide area in front of the ticketing counters. This was constructed from my memories stretching back to some wonderful times of my youth when we had attended sporting events together at Boston Garden. As we walked toward the ‘train departure’ area, we moved slowly, shoulder to shoulder. He was slow and shuffling which mirrored his last weeks of debilitated health. He was telling me how fun and wonderful it had been to have been my father and how I should make the most of every breathing minute. Above all he was telling me that he had to move on now and that it was natural and wonderful. That I should have no thought of sadness or worry on his account. He regretted not being able to contact me after that time but someday I would understand everything.
we embraced, he moved through the turnstile and off to his next adventure.
I awoke, refreshed, crying with happiness and feeling a superior sense of closure and a general sense of deep peace.