The Visit

I woke from a dream this morning, with tear filled eyes, at least I think it was a dream, or may be it was just another visiting. We were always visiting him, in this home for the people with wheels on their chairs, and the dream went like this: ~~~~~~ I walked into a room filled with these veterans of the chairs. Talk, chattering, a sense of busyness filled the air. Activities abounded, but from one chair. There he sat, grey stubble was his beard, and the style of his hair, as always. With coal black expressionless eyes, he stared off into nothingness, or maybe it was his emptiness that he viewed. Now that I think about it, I guess he was staring into his past, to a time that he was able to walk, or staring into the future, and a place where walking wasn't even a question. I guess he was just lost somewhere in time, in between what was, and what is to come. For no apparent reason, off he rolled, and with such purpose, but what was this purpose? What could it be? I trailed him closely, him still not aware of my presences. He stopped at a table where many of his fellow chair bounds, talked over the good old days, when they were of the walking. With excitement he began to share a favorite story of his own, when he glanced up and caught sight of me standing there, and said, " son, what are you doing here"? I said, "just another visit, Dad". He was still in his wheel chair, and I told him, "Dad, you don't need a wheelchair anymore, in this place you can walk". He stood up and walked to me, and we hugged. And as we hugged, I started to cry. I cried so hard that it woke me up, and I was still crying. As I woke, as I was crying, I realized that when we are in heaven, and all worldly things are behind us, we will once again hold all those that we once held, and loved and realize how silly some of the thing that we let get in the way of the love were, but that will be then, and this is now. Was this a dream, or had I truly visited him up in heaven. It seemed too real to be but a dream. ~~~~~~~ With an unconditional love, our father waits for all his children, each and every one. Written June 12th, 1996 © on Oct 12 2001 12:22 AM PST   0 • 13