Gather round, Jakita, Gen, Charlie and Tigger. You all remember RIP Daddy so this one is for you.
You know Momma, always wishing and hoping, yet a stick-in-the-mud realist who readily admits she just longs for the veil that separates the living from the dead, to be just a bit more translucent.
It just seems every time you pick up a magazine there is another amazing story about someone who died, that had no faith in anything but his own puffed up powers, and he (she) reappears in mysterious ways and even on the anniversary of their death. They write on a mirror in chalk, or send flowers or find a way to have their favourite song played on the local radio station. Momma believes them because well, she is pining for a similar interaction.
Not RIP Daddy, says Momma. No, he is like Houdini. You can hold séances but RIP Daddy is a no-show. Good Christian Reform member that he was for so many years (until he was excommunicated for failure to attend services), he did not believe in that stuff and nonsense.
Uow Momma, good Virgo that she is, wants to have him come visit her while she is in a conscious state, not just sporadically, in dreams that have no beginning and no ends. He just appears, then abruptly leaves, in a middle of a conversation. Come to think of it, just like he did when he shared the earth plane – things to do, places to go, you know….
Momma’s plan is ….well, she would like him to at least sit with her a while and explain the whats, whys and wherefores of life that are a total mystery to those of us still tethered to the earth plane.
Now you and I know, the Momma’s of this world are too fanciful. She knows she should be content that he drops by in her dreams and pops up in her flower gardens…those tulips in the spring, peonies, and roses in the summer, mums in the fall …or so she likes to think…..but she could be delusional…or could it be the dreaded dementia descending like a black cloud.
It goes without saying our Momma is always open to learn more, to hear of the meetings that take place between folks and their loved ones that have gone to their greater reward, after a life well liven….or not It makes her envious, yet feeds her hope that any day now, when she least expects it, RIP Daddy will come striding in, with a story to tell, a long story (he was good at that) and she’s ready.
Any bets, guys? I’m thinking Momma should be content with the dreams, even if she can not script questions like a reporter at a White House Daily Briefing.
There are just some things we don’t need to know….but don’t tell Momma because she can be like a dog with a bone, digging and digging, in the hope somehow she’ll feel the earth move under her feet, the sky come tumbling down and there will be…RIP Daddy.
