When I was 16, my father had a heart attack and died on our kitchen floor. The paramedics announced his passing my siblings and I left the room to grieve. Four minutes later, the paramedics came to find us, telling us they used the paddles and brought him back!
As they carted my father out of the kitchen to the front door, he smiled up at me. "I was at a fiord (father was a child in Norway). My Tante Wahlborg was there (dead for a decade or more). There were flowers that don't exist and colors that don't exist." He then motioned me to lean down as if to tell me some great secret. I looked into his sparkling hazel eyes as he told me, "that was the REAL world. This one is FAKE." They carted him out and to the hospital.
Days later, when visiting father at the hospital, we came home to celebrate that he was doing better. I went to bed, closed the door, locked it as I always did so my mother wouldn't come in and clean while I was sleeping. I woke up during the night to someone pulling on my big toe. When I was growing up, father was always traveling the world and I worried about him making it home, but mother didn't want us staying up on school nights to wait, so he would come into my room and pull on my big toe to let me know he made it home. At this time, I looked up to see the black silhouette of my father at the foot of my bed, tugging on my toe. I thought to myself, "he got out early!"
The phone rang and I turned to reach for it, but it stopped ringing. I figured my sister might have picked it up in the kitchen. I turned back, but dad was gone. Then, my sister pounded on my bedroom door and told me to get dressed, we had to get to the hospital. We rushed liked crazy to the hospital many miles away and I kept thinking, "why are we going there? Dad is home!"
When we arrived, he had been removed from the machines and was lying there eternally resting.
A week or two later, the woman who lived in my childhood home, Aspen Grove, called and talked to my mom and said she saw my father in a gray suit and pink striped tie on her property and she figured he was visiting and came by. She was having a party and when she was done attending people, she went to greet him, but he was gone. Oddly, that was the suit and tie (dad's traveling suit) that we had buried him in.
My family made a pact to haunt Aspen Grove and each time we lost a member, we reinforced that.
Since that pact, father died, mother died, Scott died and Tina died. Also, our dear family friend Professor Robert Hawked passed on and all of them swore to haunt the place. They even told me where they would be.
If you are interested in knowing more about the haunting experiences my entire family had at Aspen Grove, read my book, "Growing Up With Ghosts" on Amazon and Kindle. It will shed much light into why we might have wanted to haunt it.
Happy Father's Day and remember, even if your father is not in the earthly realm any longer, the separation between you is the blink of the eye in the universal scheme. Use your time left here wisely, follow his lessons, and remember that he is with you always, even if you in your present physical form cannot discern that.