When I was very young, my father and I were very friendly, but when I entered the so-called transitional age, everything went wrong at once: quarrels, scandals, misunderstandings. It got to the point that we could not stay in the same room for more than 15 minutes.
Later, when I was older, I married, gave birth to a child, quarrels ceased, but I could not regain my former trust with my father. I know that he loved me, worried about his daughter, but we could not sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk. Change it could not even his terrible diagnosis - cancer. My father was left to live a year, he slowly died down, lost weight, but courageously endured the pain, refusing to inject ...
I watched as my dad dies, sobs in the pillow, while nobody sees, but she could not cross the barrier between us, she could not sit down and talk to him, ask for forgiveness for the terrible words and deeds that she once said and did. Everything gathered with spirit, with thoughts, and ... did not have time.
Dad did not become at night. The following are how far the days passed for me, like in a fog: crying relatives, a cemetery, a wake. A few days after the funeral, I clearly understood that the only thing I want is to see my father. And every evening, going to bed, I kept saying: "Daddy, dream to me, please! I have not had time to tell you so much! "
It was the night of the ninth day. I still can not say exactly what happened to me then. I lay with my eyes closed and suddenly fell into the void. I remember thinking that I fell asleep, but my mind was absolutely clear. Before my eyes was darkness, but not frightening, but soft and warm, like velvet.
Suddenly, in the middle of the darkness, directly in front of me, the doors of a shop arose. I went inside. Along the shelves with the goods were some people, but I could not examine their faces - they were like in a fog. At the far wall of the store I saw my father. He stood with his back to me, in his blue windbreaker, disheveled and looking at something in the window.
He turned around and, seeing me, went with a broad, kind smile to meet him, stretching out his arms, as if he wanted to hug. I rushed to him, squeezing between people, and in my head suddenly surfaced an old sign that if in a dream the deceased embraced you - he would take him with him. "Well, let! I missed you so much! "- I immediately discarded any doubts, for myself, noting that consciousness still works absolutely clear.
I was ready to rush to my father's neck, but he did not hug me at the last moment, but took me by the hand. I'm ready to swear that I did not feel anything more real. The skin was warm, as in life, and the palms rough.
And he calmed me down, smiled, and all said that he was doing well, so that I would not worry. What struck me was his question about my daughter's well-being. The fact is that at that moment Veronica was very sick, but the doctors could not diagnose her. But in order not to worry the dying father, we did not say anything to him about this. Then he led me to the counter and for some reason took from him a piece of smoked fish.
Taste, smell ... I even felt like food is hammered into a hole in the tooth.
"It's time," his father said suddenly. "Take care of your mother, do not worry about me."
I burst into tears again, asked him to stay, he gently pushed me to the exit.
At that moment, I opened my eyes. My heart was easy and peaceful. I still do not know if it really was, or I dreamed it all. But for half an hour I could smell the taste of smoked fish in my mouth.
By the way, her daughter went on a sharp rebound. She was not diagnosed.
