Good Job, Kiddo

I’m a skeptical believer. Ghosts, spirits, an after life… My scientific brain wants to shut these ideas down as nonsense. My experiences, subjective though they may be, have supported these things.

For example, it was scary as hell to go upstairs in my grandpa’s house by yourself. And, late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, you would hear footsteps in the hallway. There were a few times that me and my brother and/or aunt would peek into the hallway. No one there… Those feelings and experiences happened throughout my childhood when I visited that house, and my mom said she experienced the same things when she grew up in it.

I’ve written before about my experience the morning my dad died. There’s really no explanation for having that specific dream at that specific time. None. Yet I did, and the timing was perfect for when he passed.

I talked to my grandfather the day before he died, and I had a very strong feeling that I was never going to see or talk to him again.

I rat-sat (like babysitting but for rats) for some friends while they were traveling. I had a dream that the rat died. When I went to check on him that day, he was fine. When my friend arrived home later that same day, the rat was dead…

On the drive home from my dissertation defense on Thursday evening, I had another one of these inexplicable experiences. I was feeling good. I was listening to pumped up music and feeling proud of myself.

Suddenly, clear as day I hear my dad’s voice in my head: “Good job, kiddo.” I immediately burst into tears. I tried to get myself together as I continued to drive along I-275. 

For a second, Dad popped in to congratulate me on passing my dissertation defense. 

I’m glad for my experiences with the intangible. They remind me that our world is so much bigger than what we see with our eyes. I’m glad to know that somehow my dad is keeping an eye on me. I’m glad to know that he’s doing Ok too.