Was it a dream? Or was it a spiritual visit?
Could it be the dead’s way of conveying a message?
One night as I fell to slumber, I was taken aback to a life when we were younger.
The scene took place at the old family house situated behind the elementary school that was built eons ago. Overlooking the house’s window at the east, is the school playground where some sort of ball game was taking place. As me and my sisters were watching the game through the window, another scene took my attention. This time, I saw my sick father in his bed speaking to us his wishes. His message was so touching that carried us to tears. I held his hand to feel it in my face. Feeling my face drenched in tears, I stirred half awake only to realize that I was dreaming. Forcing myself to close my eyes and go back to sleep, it felt strange in my bedroom, like there was a presence of somebody I can’t visualize. I heard some rustling and footsteps inside the house, too. Having convinced myself that what I was hearing and feeling was a result of pure imagination, I fell back to sleep for few more hours. It was already past midnight when I sensed a whiff of cigarette smoke from nowhere in my bedroom. I wanted to wake up and find out where was that smell coming from, as nobody in my house smoke, but something was preventing me from doing so. It was not easy to open my eyes and moving was a struggle. I felt so exhausted, that breathing started to get labored, too. I thought I was calling for my kids, but perhaps they heard nothing. I fought, and I fought so hard and finally managed to wake up and shifted myself to another side and went back to sleep as my body felt weak.
Oh, Lord! Dream continues, or maybe it is real!
This time, my father was by the door of the bedroom and mumbled something that to my understanding, he is making sure that me and my kids are doing fine. In my reply, I caught myself talking in my sleep, then I woke up with ease. I got up and went to the kitchen, brewed some coffee, and offered it to the souls of the departed. For fear of dreaming again, I just laid in bed sniffing the aroma of the coffee that permeated through my bedroom, and lingered until dawn.
This is a dream I dreamt on the fisrt death anniversary of my father.
In our Filipino culture, it is a belief that when you dream of somebody who has passed away, it may be a sign of their soul roaming or visiting . One of the cultural practices in regards to dreams like mine, is to acknowledge their presence by offering food and saying prayers for them. Although some of the younger generation may not believe or practice the culture/ rituals anymore, older people like me, still do.