I can still remember Dad’s funeral. Since he had been a World War II Veteran and an Army Officer, he was buried at the Florida National Cemetery with full honors. The sky was a clear blue with puffy, white clouds on that day. It was the kind of day Dad would have enjoyed by sitting outside under a shade tree. He truly loved the outdoors and had been a fishing guide for the very, rich folks in our town. He knew the best places and once one a lake, he could sense where the fish were biting…DAD JUST KNEW!

The night before his passing, Dad came to me. I was in bed about to go to sleep, when I felt someone sitting down on the side of the bed. At first, I thought it was my husband. As I opened my eyes, I didn’t see anyone, but knew someone was there. I could feel being pulled into someone’s loving embrace. For once in my life, I felt the essence of utopia. Love filled my heart and my very soul. I basked in this unconditional love, unaware at that time it came from Dad. He was saying his final good-bye and I had been totally clueless about it. Way down deep in my gut I had to have known it was Dad; otherwise, I would have panicked.
This feeling of complete bliss lasted for about a minute and then it slowly dissipated.

The next day, I received a phone call from my younger brother, Warren. Dad had passed away in the morning in his bed at the nursing home. Immediately, I made the connection with last night’s visit. Dad had passed away during the night and ‘why’ Warren was being told Dad had died in the morning had been a complete cover-up. Yet, it didn’t matter! I knew Dad was ready to move on into the next phase of existence. He had suffered so much at the hands of those I’d described as demonic. For Dad had been a guinea pig, like so many others, subjected to receiving various drugs and having to live with the side effects; when in fact, he didn’t need those drugs at all! It was those drugs that killed Dad and not his age.

Fortunately, I experience subtle signs from Dad, letting me know he’s just around the corner, such as a picking up a dime or seeing yellow dandelions. Both are his calling card. Now, why those two items one may ask?

The dime represents a time Warren and I went with Dad to pick some pole beans. We were told if we picked enough beans to fill up a bushel, Dad would give us each a dime, so we could buy a soda. Warren and I worked fast and hard to fill up that bushel! Years later, it was one of Dad’s favorite memories about Warren and I. He couldn’t believe how hard we worked to earn that dime.

Now, as for yellow dandelions, Dad and I were early-risers. I’d come inside the house carrying a bouquet of yellow dandelions. Dad would help me get a glass jar off the pantry shelf and fill it with water. We’d put the flower display in the middle of the kitchen table for everyone to enjoy. Ironically, if one were to ask Dad what was his favorite color? He’d answer, “Yellow!”

Now, Dad had a very strong connection with God. During World War II, Dad was in charge of a platoon in the Battle of Cherbourgh. Our own planes came too soon bombing the entire area. Ad and one other person managed to escape dying in the fire. Someone had pulled him and the other soldier out of harm’s way. And from that moment on, Dad knew God truly existed and he became a believer.

Author's Bio: 

Sharon Beecroft Brown has had unusual encounters with the paranormal, which she knows was prompted by having three near-death experiences. She is a Christian and avid reader of the Book of Urantia. Check out her author site at