I never fill up my gas tank because my car is on its last legs. I would hate to invest 60 bucks into a full tank, just to have the car go to the junkyard. That is wasting 60 bucks and as my brother John says, I’m cheap.
I was at work, the morning that I got the call to get to the hospital right away. As I pulled out of the lot, the fuel light lit up in my Ford Explorer, indicating that the tank was close to being empty. I knew the hospital was about 10 miles away and I did not know what type of traffic I would hit. I needed to stop and get gas, because it would suck if I got stuck on the side of the road and not get a chance to see my dad before he passed away.
I stopped at a gas station, slid my credit card through the machine and pumped the fuel for about three minutes. Just enough gas to get me the rest of the way and to make sure that the fuel light was off. I found out through a phone call that my Dad had already passed away when I got the original call at work. I continued to pump more gas, because, now I felt empty.
That was six weeks ago. The fuel light has gone on 4 times since then. Every time it lights up, a wave of emotion hits me and reminds me that I am feeling empty.
When my grandmother passed away a couple of years ago, my mom and her sisters started to notice Butterflies in unusual places. There is a story behind the butterflies, which is too long to write here, but they all look at butterflies as a sign of their mother’s presence. It brings them peace.
My brother Jim’s very close friend, Toz, died in Iraq in 2005. I have been told the story (but I do not remember it exactly) that a Buck, a wild deer, came out of nowhere and watched the funeral procession. I am not sure of the significance, but there was one, and many people who attended looked at the Buck as a sign that Toz was okay.
I have read and heard other people’s stories of signs, dreams and other weird stuff that has happened after someone has died. I find them all fascinating and most of the stories all end with the fact that the living are now at peace with passing of their loved ones.
I still have not seen or found that sign that has brought me peace, or closure, or whatever I feel that I need, with my father’s death. I know I have plenty of great memories and I am blessed with the fact that I could consider my dad my friend but I keep looking for something else.
I know. I know. It will happen when I am not looking for it. But, right now, all I got is a fuel light blinking.