This wasn't the post that I was planning on writing tonight. I had intended on this being a motivational post to the writers that think their work isn't good enough. I wanted to tell you all to keep writing. Your work is for you and if you inspire or touch even one person then it's all worth it! And, readers, support those writers! So many forget to rate, review, and spread the news about a book that they read. They enjoy the work and look forward to reading whatever comes next but never visit Goodreads, Fable, or even Amazon to rate and review the book. (And why is it always the 1-star reviews that never leave a reason for WHY?).
But I digress. That is not what this post is all about.
In 2015, my father passed away from complications stemming from a stroke. Actually, many small strokes. Every Father's Day weekend I start thinking about him more and more. Time heals wounds but the scars remain. My father was one of my best friends. A flawed man in many ways, yes--but a man with a great heart. I'm not quite ready to dig too far into his passing but, suffice to say, it was painful.
In the time since his passing, I believe he has come to visit me on several occasions. He shows up in my dreams often and we sit and talk, or we just drive down the road, but several times he's come to me in my wakened life as well. While what I'm about to say may seem "not too thrilling", certain moments in our lives, especially those of a paranormal or supernatural kind can resonate with the experiencer and fall flat with others. I hope this one doesn't fall too flat with you all.
It was about a half a year since my father had passed. I was in my living room and playing some video game that I can't recall at this moment. Suddenly, from the kitchen, I smelled his scent. Now, this may sound weird but as I mentioned previously, my father died from complications from a stroke. He was a sick man for quite a while. And, while this may sound distasteful, toward the end of his life he had a particular odor...a combination of B.O. and his body wash. A strange combination indeed and while it seems a little strange to describe, it was VERY distinct. From the kitchen, the smell suddenly passed right by me (from right to left). I acknowledged it with a smile and a gentle nod. A few minutes later my basketball, which had been in the corner on the other side of the room for months (it was winter, and it wasn't being used often at that time) rolled out of the corner and slowly came to a stop right at my feet.
I sat there for a few moments, staring at the basketball, before saying "Hi, Dad."
No response.
I looked at the basketball for a few moments longer before nodding again and putting it back to its rightful place in the corner.
Dads out there...keep doing your best. If you're a dad that doesn't see his children...BE BETTER! Be better for you and for them because it ends far too soon. In my upcoming book Beyond the Autumn Leaves, my main character Matt references never knowing when it's your last time seeing someone, hearing their voice, or holding them in your arms. Especially your children. My daughter just graduated from high school and I'm here to tell you, I have NO idea where the time went. So, dads, enjoy your day. But, more importantly, appreciate those in your life. You are the first man your daughters will love, and you are the inspiration for your sons. Be there for them because you never know when you won't be able to be again.
Happy Father's Day!
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