I was nannying at a house in the Hamptons when my phone rang on silent. I looked at the caller, my sister’s name shown on the display; it was in that instant that I knew, my father had just passed away. I quickly tiptoed outside to the backyard to take the call, the family whose children I was nannying had a large business dinner happening in an hour & there were several people preparing for it in the house. I knew I had to pick up, I also knew I had to put the children in bed before everyone showed up. “What’s up? You never call me.” The words spilled out, even though I knew the answer. It was like the hopeful part of me just wanted it to be nothing. “It’s Dad. He died today.” Silence. I was letting it sink in; and to be honest, I did not know what to say. “How?” It was the only logical thing that came to my mind. “He had a heart attack.” “Thanks, I have to go put the kids to bed.” I did not know what to do or how to process this. Sticking to what I knew seemed like the answer. “Ok, call me if you need anything.” I think my sister was just as happy to get off the phone as I was. It was not every day you had to let your sibling know they had lost their person. I found out later that my Uncle was calling everyone giving them the news, but when he told my sister, she specifically asked that she be able to be the one to tell me. She knew how much he meant to me, and how sensitive I was. To this day, I am so thankful it was her on the other end of that call. If there is any other soul in this lifetime I am connected to strongly, it’s her. We had been through a lot together, and it seems we were about to go through more.
I went inside, dumbfounded. My employer, Rachel, was inside making tea and she saw me. Her intuition kicked in, “Are you ok?” She knew I had taken a phone call and she knew I rarely did that at work, she also saw my face of disbelief. “It’s your Dad, isn’t it?” I shook my head, it’s all I could reply. She came over and gave me a big hug, something very out of character for her; but knowing she lost her Dad very young, I could feel the empathy flowing towards me so I accepted it. “Don’t worry about the boys, I have them. What do you need?” “I…I…I don’t know what I need. I think I am going to just go sit on the beach.” And with that, like a child who lost her way, I just walked out the door to their backyard, down their private path to their private beach. If I needed anything, I needed the water and I need privacy.
As I sit in on the beach, the tears just began to flow. Every feeling came rushing at me all at once: sadness, emptiness, longing, anger, worry, and love. A this point in my life, already having been through a lot and learning to turn to meditation, I knew how to deal with it. I observed it, felt it, and then accepted all my feelings, even if they were contradictory. And then, something happened that I did not expect: I felt my Dad’s presence there with me on the beach. I felt his love and his spirit, I even felt where it was (though I could not see it) it was standing in front of me to the right of me, a little closer to the water than I. I felt a deep sense of love and empathy radiating out towards me from that spot and I closed my eyes and breathed it in. As I did that, I could faintly hear him, “I am still right here with you, it is going to be ok.” And deep down, I knew it would be. It was exactly what I needed to see and hear that night, exactly where I needed to feel it, and I think my Dad knew that. He knew I could not fathom a life in it where he wasn’t there beside me. It did not stop my grief (by any means) but in that moment I really truly understood what I have always known: energy and love never dies, it changes form, but it is always there.
I sometimes have dreams about my Dad, and I have come to acknowledge them as his spirit coming to visit me when my conscious mind is off. I know it sounds crazy, trust me, but the thing is most people who I have come to talk about death and grief have similar experiences. I have boiled it down to two things: how open you are to allowing these signs, symbols, and mostly beliefs into your life (you have to be open). And secondly, how close you were to the person who passed and how much you need them afterwards. I think those people who we were so close to on earth, are still somehow with us when their bodies pass. The dreams were always so meaningful and so real, and they came just when I needed advice or a reminder.
Once a few years ago when I was in Italy with my x-boyfriend, I had gone to bed just knowing that he was not right for me. It was after a night of dancing, but we had a big fight afterwards. We were constantly fighting and I knew he was being unfaithful. I also knew his childhood trauma was sabotaging our relationship and he was not ready to grow. I fell asleep really sad about it, but also thinking about how he had exposed me to something I had once loved in childhood, dancing. Looking back, I did not want to let him go because I did not want to let the fun and joy of that part of me go either. I wasn’t sure I would continue to bring back that part of my inner child without him in my life. As I fell asleep, I had a very vivid dream of being at a wedding with my family, my Father was there too. One thing my family loved to do at weddings was dance. My Father started a Congo line and I was right behind him, shimmying and shaking to the beat. One arm up and one leg out, followed by the next. We smiled so big and then he looked back at me through his smile, and said, “Whatever happens, Sarah, never stop dancing!” As soon as he gave me the message he intended for me, I woke up. And I woke up, crying. I knew what it meant. My ex was besides me when I woke, my face covered in tears. He looked at me and without being able to handle my emotions, excused himself and told me that he had to get home. I knew why my Dad said it, it was my permission to leave and to remember to also bring the parts of me that I loved.
On Mother’s Day (I can’t remember if it was a year or two years after my Father’s passing) my sister and I got into a fight. Our relationship has always been up and down, though we deeply love each other. We grew up in a lot of trauma, specifically because my Mother was abusive (both physically and mentally) and therefore we sometimes had a hard time letting each other in. That year, my sister had bought us tickets to see Brandi Carlisle, an artist we both loved at Red Rocks as she had just moved to Colorado. She called me in New York, “Have you bought tickets to Colorado yet?” “No Jen, but you know I will. I always do these things last minute; but, I wouldn’t miss our Sister Trip.” “Ok…I have been thinking, they weren’t cheap tickets and maybe it’s best if I take Matt instead (her husband).” I really do not remember how we ended that conversation, but I remembered being in absolute shambles. If anyone understood how hard Mother’s Day was for me, it should have been her. She knows our Mother was not the greatest and she also knew I had no kids of my own (thought I have raised quite a few). I immediately wanted to call my Dad, which made the situation worse. He was no longer there as my go-to person, and that was still a hard pill to swallow. I had dinner with the girls that night though, and I was determined to go, even if I was balling my eyes out trying to get ready. Through tears, I started to pick out my outfit. As I did, I heard TAP! TAP! TAP! on the window and immediately looked over, there was a hummingbird literally just hovering at my window. It stayed there just flapping its tiny wings staring at me for what felt like a solid 30 seconds to a minute. I couldn’t believe my eyes, an idol hummingbird in the middle of NYC? One that tapped on my window to make me look, and then it stayed? Then it hit me: my dad used to always call me his free bird and I knew him as the lone wolf. It felt like my Dad had sent this one to me, a reminder that even if he couldn’t speak to me, he was still there. My mood changed in that moment, and I pulled myself together and got ready for a night out. I knew it was all going to be ok.
I am currently in Tirana, Albania this month and for some reason, I keep feeling my Father’s presence near me, rooting me on. On my first weekend here, I stopped at a bookstore hoping to get a book to read while traveling (something I like to do every time I am in a new place). In the bookstore, I saw a book labeled Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe, I picked it up being intrigued and there on the cover was a hummingbird. I knew my Dad had sent it for me. Turns out it is written by a psychic medium (Laura Lynne Jackson) who talks about how often you have meaningful signs and symbols that your loved ones will send you, even if you ask for one. I knew my sign with him was a hummingbird and I wanted to try her theory out. As I was reading, I could once again feel my Dad’s presence, so I asked him, “If you’re here watching me read, send me a hummingbird, Dad.” A few minutes later, I paid my tab, walked out the cafe, headed towards a tattoo appointment—and there it was, smack dab on a wall I had to pass, a graffiti’d hummingbird.
I see him in the mountains out my window in the morning, “Hey Dad” I state as I make my coffee. I feel him in the elevator with me as I communicate with my Albanian neighbor (who can only communicate with me through nonverbal language). I can feel him smiling at me seeing the good energy that I bring to people no matter where I go. I can picture the first time he came to visit me in New York, watching me in awe as I started to talk to random strangers in the street, “You’re a New Yorker now, Sarah. You can make it anywhere.” And somehow I think, even back then, he knew I would live a life where I would try to make it anywhere and everywhere. Just recently, as I was reading my book by Laura Lynne and I started to cry while getting my nails done, I could feel him again but still frustrated that I couldn’t talk to him or see him in the physical world. I just missed him so much. At that moment I heard the song that was playing up above:
If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea
I’ll sail the world to find you
If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can’t see
I’ll be the light to guide you
We’ll find out what we’re made of
When we are called to help our friends in need
You can count on me like one, two, three
I’ll be there
And I know when I need it, I can count on you like four, three, two
And you’ll be there
‘Cause that’s what friends are supposed to do, oh, yeah
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah
If you tossin’ and you’re turnin’ and you just can’t fall asleep
I’ll sing a song beside you
And if you ever forget how much you really mean to me
Every day I will remind you, oh
We’ll find out what we’re made of
When we are called to help our friends in need
You’ll always have my shoulder when you cry
I’ll never let go, never say goodbye
(You know)
“Thanks Dad, I know you’re here for me. I feel you, and I love you.” It was Bruno Mars, an artist from Hawaii, a place my Dad and I used to live and loved. And some of the lyrics are really personal, because whenever I was sad, I would always lean my head on his shoulder. Once, with my brother, crying about the loss, he said to me, “You wanna lay your head on my shoulder like you used to with Dad?” It meant the world to me in that moment, and it still does. Just like these lyrics will now.
The thing is when people pass away, we need to make sense of it somehow. We have to believe in the idea of magical thinking- a term Joan Didion once used to describe her state of being after losing both her husband and daughter in the same month. We have to believe that those people are still out there, rooting us on. And maybe that’s all it is, a lot of belief and some weird coincidences. But, maybe it’s not, maybe it really is more. Maybe the energy and soul of those you live and love will always be with you. Maybe they can communicate with you through dreams, signs, symbols, and even songs. Maybe, just maybe, they will even travel many lifetimes with you. I don’t know what you believe, but I choose to believe in a life far greater than the one we’re living. A life filled with love, good energy, and purpose. A magical one.
**My sister and I did go to the concert together and we had a great time!
Holy moly, bawled my eyes out. Beautifully written Sarah. I had no idea. Thank you for sharing.