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The afterlife 208

My dad gave me a code word before he died....this is what happened.

I lived with my terminally ill father for the last year of his life. It was heart breaking, and horrendous. I lived with him to take care of him, because he took care of me my whole life in many different ways. My dad knew his days were numbered. He would let me know almost every day that he was "running out of time." Even though that was very difficult time for me, my dad and I developed a "spiritual bond". My dad was raised Catholic, and he didn't have straight Catholic views anymore. He would often tell me he questioned if there was an after-life. Being the spiritual psychic, everyday I assured dad that there was Indeed an afterlife. My father had a very unique personality, he was kind, and quiet, and highly gifted.(He had a genius IQ) He had amazing talents in drawing and art, and he did elaborate wood-working for million dollar homes. He also had a scientific personality. More like, If you cannot prove it with science, it didn't exist to my dad. I learned a lot about my dad in that year, than any other years of my life. One day he said lets make a "code word". I said " A code word?" He said yes. "This way, after I die, if you see the code word, you will know I'm the ghost hanging around." (My dad had a hilarious sense of humor) I said, Yes! and dad and I started thinking of words that were uncommon. I said "dad lets use Asparagus" He said...I don't want to be a Dad and I went back and forth for about 40 minutes and he finally said lets use 208. I said, "208?, Why 208, dad?" He said that is my Auction number. It was a number he loved. The last few years of my dads life when he was still able to go out, he would attend these "low end" firehouse auctions, and buy everyone's yard sale crap. It was actually a problem, but that's another story. lol.

So we had a secret code. 208. I reminded dad once a week as a joke because for someone terminally ill, my dad also had a morbid sense of humor. I would say "Dad, if anything happens....remember 208!" My dad would always laugh and say "gotcha". I think dad was mocking the whole code and afterlife thing....but I wanted a code. Being a psychic, I know there is an after life. It's just something you can't convince others of. It's an opinion based topic. I didn't get any psychic abilities from my dad, so he never experienced anything that I had in his life. However, 2 days before he died I heard him laughing and talking to someone in his room. I said, "Dad, who are you talking to?" He said my crazy bride. (He meant my mom, who already passed away 7 years earlier) I said where is mom? He said, "She is in the room." Now, someone born psychic you would think I would be calm about this, but it actually freaked me out. I think mostly because if you are terminally ill and see passed away loved ones, it means you usually will pass away within seven days. They are basically "waiting for you". I immediately turned around and said, "Mom?" "Mom are you here?" I could feel the energy shift in the room. She was there. She was there waiting for my dad. They were together almost 50 years, and you just don't get over love like that. It made me feel good that my dad was happy. I heard him laugh, and he didn't express pain. However, my heart sunk. I knew dad was on borrowed time. It was horrendous to "know". He passed away 2 days later.

I am going to skip over the next 48 hours and even after my dad passed away. It's too much to talk about. It is a real tough subject. Here I am only 46 and I buried both of my parents. By buried, I mean I just didn't show up at a funeral, and had alone time to grieve. I mean... I took care of both of my parents before they died, and watch them die. I made all the arrangements including going to the funeral home alone, and making decisions, alone by myself. Yes, there is a big difference between losing a parent, and burying one. I am not saying if you didn't bury someone.. it wasn't horrendous for you. I am saying if you are the sole person doing this, it's a different more intense type of loss.

About two weeks after my dad passed away, my friend dragged me to a pumpkin patch. I was in a severe depression. It was Autumn of 2019, pre-covid. I sat in my friends driveway just dreading leaving the house. I started to think about dad. I wasn't really stable enough to be out and about. I started to think of him suffering, and I started crying hysterically in the car. I then said to myself..."Pull yourself together. Your friend is going to think you need to be in a mental hospital." I immediately thought to myself turn on the radio, put on some music. Distract yourself. This is when dad started to show up...

I was just about to turn the radio on and I stared at the clock as it read 2:08. It stopped me in my tracks, but I ignored it. I put the radio on and an advertisement came on for tires guessed it, $208.00. I immediately started screaming, "Dad!" "Dad, I got the 208!, dad where are you? I cant feel you!" It was okay though, I got the 208. I started to cry intensely as my friend approached my car. She asked me if I was ok. I decided I wasn't going to explain my 208 story. I gathered my composure and said to myself...Dad I know you are coming with me to the pumpkin patch.

Fast forward a month after dad passed away and I slowly began to forget about the 208. I was still in a deep depression over the loss of my father. I was packing up his house and I was just on some weird robotic auto-pilot. I don't remember eating or drinking. I remember my dad's neighbor bringing me food daily. Thank god for her. I couldn't keep the days straight and I wasn't cooking anything either. I remember one day I needed to check my mail at the post office. I hopped into my car and headed there in sweat pants, unwashed hair, and the same clothes for the last 3 days. I just didn't care. I was on autopilot just taking care of things that needed to be done. I was however not taking care of me, in anyway. That will come to haunt me a year later. When I got to the post office they told me that my p.o. box needs to be renewed and they needed to switch my box because of some weird confusion. I said, you know what? Just move the mail back to my home address. Forget about the p.o. box. The post master said, oh ok. You sure? We were switching it to p.o. box 208. I just said REALLY? out loud this time. I actually laughed this time. I declined and said no, move it back to my house address. I laughed on the way out of the post office. I looked up at the sky and said...Thanks Dad.

I shared this story to let you guys know, pay attention to the signs. If you aren't getting signs, you aren't asking for them. You aren't being aware. You have to pay attention to your surroundings. Nature, the radio, commercials, TV and yes...even your p.o. box. Dad kept his promise....208.


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