I often wonder what it would be like if he returned from the afterlife.

My Dad died 39 years ago of pancreatic cancer on December 23, 1983, at 4.30 pm. I was 23 years old, and he was 58.

That year was the worst Christmas of my life. To this day, I get melancholy every 23rd, then, like clockwork, snap out of it by Christmas Eve. — weird!

As I reflect on how the world has radically changed over the past four decades, I imagine he would be utterly stunned at the messed-up state of humanity.

Plus today…

He’d be 58 while I’d be 63 acting 40 — also weird.

Back then, at 23, I thought 58 was old. But, of course, people carried themselves differently in those days. So I’ll spare you a dissertation on the 80s fashion trends.

And no, this is not a eulogy-styled post about how great a man my father was (he was) and how he shaped me into the guy I am today. (By the way, his name was Guy)

He was undoubtedly a positive influence in my life.

Still, this post is more about ME than it is about him — — go figure (sorry, Dad)! Oh, and happy 40th ‘passing on’ anniversary, Pops.

It’s an odd milestone to outlive your father’s age of death. Today I’m 63 and stuck in my 40’s, hoping to make it to 90.

“I wrote this piece at precisely 4.30 pm on December 23, 2022. Every year at that time I light a candle and toast your life.”

I remember every visual, auditory and kinesthetic detail of his passing. There’s nothing more intense that spending two weeks sitting at your Dad’s deathbed and watching him gasp his last breath just before the holidays. — It fucks you up!

Some say you become a man after your father dies; in theory, that’s a valid point, but I was too much of a mamma’s boyto become a full-fledged man at 23.

Flash forward to February 18, 2011, at 9.30 am, when my mother died of Renal Failure (Diabetic). I was 50 years old; she had just turned 80. Her death was not tragically premature like my father’s. Instead, her passing was peaceful and expected. — that’s how I want to go! (but after 90)

Okay, so now I’m a MAN.

The first thing I did after my mothers’ death was get a bunch of Tattoos; A guardian angel across my chest, birds, turtles, an anchor compass on my arms and a large sun on my back.

Before 63, I’ll get a few more. The secret is to hire a talented artist. I’m hoping as my man boobs sag, the angel wings will spread — how cool would that be?

At 49, I delayed my tattoo journey because my mom was still alive. However, I can still picture her giving me the evil eye saying (insisting), “No son of mine will ruin his body with Tattoos.”

Yup, I was still a mamma boy. Don’t underestimate the power a mother has over her full-grown sons. Their matriarchal edicts are almost like an archetype never to be questioned.

I don’t know if my passive inability to challenge her came from a place of respect or simply tiny balls. My partner says it’s not the latter. (wink-pun)

My brother said it best at her funeral; “You’re not a man until both your parents die. So now we were officially (adult) orphans.”

Your mamma ain’t here to cheer you on; listen to your whining and do what mothers do best — love you!

I feel her energy around me every day…

Sometimes her energy can be comforting; however, it’s creepy when I’m “spanking the monkey” and sense my mom’s presence.

(Maybe not creepy if you’re a Hillbilly from the south.)

She left me a beautiful print. It’s of a little girl looking through a frosted window. Mom often said, “that’s me looking through to the other side.”

oops

I made the colossal mistake of hanging the print above my bed. Suddenly it felt as if mom was watching my every move. — ewwwww!

The problem was that I could not ‘take care of business’ because that dam picture hung over my bed.

I was bursting at the seams ‘abstaining’ (something guys cant easily do) and was left with no choice but to remove all family heirlooms from my private space.

That day I realized how sensitive I am to sensing spirit energies. — not weird at all!

It was time for an intervention.

Spirits and angels look over us throughout our lives. But come on, ghosts — get the frig out of my bedroom and step away from the bathroom when I sit on the potty.

So one day, I decided to take matters into my own hand (no pun intended)

I lit a candle in front of moms picture and had a good ol’ heart-to-heart chat with her spirit……

“Listen, mom, I respected your privacy and never spied on you and Dad, so my bedroom is out of bounds.

Please go hover over someone else’s bed (respect). — — stay out!”

The same goes for when I’m wiping my ass, picking my nose (we all do it) or doing what mortals do in the privacy of their cribs.

Then a funny thing happened… she left!

She understood and respected my boundary issues. Hence, I never again felt her uninvited energy in my private space — whew!

It was never an issue for my Dad’s ghost because he’s a Guy (pun intended) who gets it. Plus, I’m now his elder. (common…. keep up, my lovely reader)

Here’s my point.

Don’t let spirits (good or bad) push you around. They should only visit in times of need or when invited.

Unless, of course, Mother Karma sent someone knocking to fuck with you because of some nasty shit you did when you were a punk.

Anyhow…..

If a spirit comes into your space, asking them to leave when their timing is off is appropriate.

I often say, “spirits be gone’’ when I feel an unwanted presence in my room. — and it works!

It’s not that I’m shameful or creepy in my actions; humans need boundaries from spirits, and you must remind them of this.

So okay, Mom and Dad, it was fun when you got new flying superpowers to bolt across the universe. But come on, have a little respect.

“Have you nothing better to do than watch mammals play with themselves, groom each other and fling pooh?” (I saw that on an Animal Kindom video once)

I suppose one exception would be if you were in the middle of a good shag with a serial killer from a dating app, and mommy starts moving objects in the room to get your attention — then it’s okay!

I recommend a good book called Angels In My Hair by Lorna Bryne.

Lorna Byrne physically sees and talks with angels every day and has done so since she was a baby. As a young child, she assumed everyone could see the angels who always accompanied her. Adults, however, were often skeptical, concerned that Lorna did not seem to be focusing on the world around her. Today, sick and troubled people worldwide are drawn to her for comfort and healing, and theologians of different faiths seek her guidance.

Skeptics will tell you Spirits, Angels, Allah or whatever you believe are fabricated. Some even cry bullshit suggesting it’s all in your head.

Don’t listen to them….skeptics be gone.

You must create your own coping reality and believe whatever you want to comfort yourself as you wiggle through life.

There are too many coincidences not to believe in spirits or guardian angels.

They walk among us alive and well. Perhaps you’re one and don’t know it?

No matter how alone you feel, you always have a guardian angel by your side.

In creative spirit,

Daniel & Ibrahim