My father died of lung cancer in 2004. He was fine up until a monday morning and died that next wed. evening. He had a hard time during those last two days, but his time actually suffering was mercifully short. The night he died I was laying in bed just about to fall off to sleep when I felt his wonderful large hand poke me in the back in joking manner. Since then I have not been afraid for where he may have gone. We had our problems during his life, but losing a father is very unique experience of course. I see him in dreams once in awhile and he seems to be doing quite well most of the time.

I was just talking with my girlfriend about this this morning. Sometimes its like my dad is showing me what his life is like now, but other times its more like a dream where we have some kind of friction between us like when he was alive here. I'd say most of the time it feels like a genuine communication though, but I'm torn about that in some ways. I'm not sure that it's really that bit of consciousness that was my dad because I'm not sure he'd stick around just to play a prominent role in my dreams, you know.