Letters from my father from 'the other side'

Jesus & Mary and the Unformed Souls - Arifa Asariah

Dream Nov 2008

I was in a small study with a lovely old wooden writing desk.  On it I discovered letters from my father.  (In life my father died in 2001) I was upset that I hadn't read them, for he would be waiting for a response, I thought.  I opened the top one.

He wrote telling me where he was.  A beautiful countryside, he told me, and I saw it.  I saw what to me looked like beautiful Australian sub-tropics, like around Northern NSW, with rain forests and rivers; beautiful trees rising upwards, ferns around their bases and flowers of all colours.   As I looked on I realised this was not any countryside I knew, in many ways it was different from any I'd ever seen... in fact there was and 'alien' quality about it.

There was another letter I opened. In this one he was very upset.  It seems there was a baby that was born with something wrong with it and it hadn't thrived and had died.  He was so upset that as he was writing about it the writing was getting more wobbly until it wobbled off the paper... although I didn't know the child of whom he was talking, I felt very upset for his upset.

My father, in the first part of the dream, was showing me where he now was, after death.   There are stories that 'life' after this one, when we die from our material existence, is not dissimilar.  This dream is a confirmation for me of that.  But also, after my mother died, I dreamt that I saw her in a large, wide open field, leaning on a wooden fence, side by side with her father.  They both looked well and happy, as I remember.  That was all I saw.  Yet there it was, like this world of beautiful nature, two images of my parents in different but natural settings, much like this world.

In the second part of the dream, the second letter... there are many things I could say about the child.  My feeling is that it was a part of my father that didn't thrive.  He was, he told me, a very sensitive boy.  As he grew up in Glasgow, Scotland, son of Russian Jewish Immigrants living in 'The Gorbals', the toughest part of Glasgow, he didn't have the luxury of being the child he was; sensitive, psychic (which he was), and he became a tough, bullying, determined adult who managed to make his money and support his family out of poverty.  In the dream though, we both cried for the potential lost, of the child that could not thrive.  As I write this I am praying for this beautiful child within him, that he has been able to reunite with that part of himself in the world of natural beauty into which he has been 'deathed' from here.  

Father, our relationship was so hard.  I understand so much more clearly now that what you saw in me, of the sensitive and psychic parts, how much it hurt you.  I asked you once, when I was an adult, why you had been so tough with me... and you had told me then that you saw your sensitivity in me and didn't want me to suffer like you.  

I can smile now... but I spent years and years learning to forgive him for the hurt. But now I feel I understand his pain.  Oh my beloved father, I cried for your loss in my dreams, and now I cry in understanding.