I hadn’t slept well and woke too late to make the morning yoga class. So I stayed in bed and drifted back to sleep.
I dreamed I entered a small cafe in a neighboring town. No one was in the restaurant. Feeling a little disoriented and indecisive, I prepared to leave. I told the guy at the counter that my morning schedule was screwed up . . . that I knew it wasn’t a problem and then finally agreed to a breakfast order.
I moseyed between the tables and looked over when I noticed Daddy sitting at a table. He’d come in from the cold and his hands were between his knees. That’s the way he often waited.
“Daddy!” I yelled happily. I rushed to him and hugged him. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt hoodie and the hood covered his head, tied tightly under his chin. His face was rosy and looked thin. “How did you get here? How did you find me?” I asked.
He said clearly, “I knew how to find you.”
Ever since my father passed away, I’ve been praying to him. He answered my prayers and visited me. I felt peaceful the rest of the day.