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Dad's going home Let me start my story by telling you that this was a comforting experience, not frightening at all. My father was a WW2 vet, he was decorated with the Purple Heart, and the badge of courage, he had worked for 30 plus years at our local elevator, which was only a few blocks from our house. Every day at noon the noon time whistle would blow and my sister and I would wait to see our dad walking home for lunch. We would run up the street and meet him and he would "march" us home. the military was still in him. Many years passed, and dad had gotten ill. He had a stroke, which sent him to stay at the Vets home. He would enjoy our visits and we tried to make his room as homey as we could with things that he enjoyed, like his Indian collection, books and pictures of family, you know the kind of stuff that would make a nursing home room feel warm and comfortable. One thing that my mom did, was to purchase these cute mechanical, musical items. One I am speaking about is a beautiful ceramic lighthouse. It was well decorated, with rocks around the bottom and very life like. When you turned it over there was a switch the would turn on and off the sound effects. When it was on the lighthouse would blink off and on and there were sounds of the ocean and seagulls. It was peaceful and rather comforting. I know my dad enjoyed it a lot. One day mom decided to bring it home with her, maybe to keep it safe from breaking, I'm not sure. I just remember that she put it in my dad's old bedroom and it sat on his dresser, untouched. On June of 2000 my father passed, while he was eating his breakfast. We got that dreaded call. So both my sisters and our families traveled to our parents house to comfort each other. Mom wasn't in good health herself so, us girls decided to help clean house, for her. My oldest sister took my dads room, and started to dust and sweep. I was busy doing something else at the time, but she yelled for me to come here and hurry. I dropped what I was doing and ran to his room. There was my sister standing in front of his dresser with the dust rag in hand. She said "Joni, look at the lighthouse." I couldn't understand what the big deal was, so the light on the top was blinking, so what. She said, "no, really look at it" I picked it up and turned it over. The switch was turned off...Hmmm, I opened the little place where you keep the batteries, and low and behold, there weren't any...She and I just looked totally stunned. I said to her," I guess that dad wanted just to let us know that he was ok and he was here." I felt comforted in a strange way. The day we buried dad, was a day I will never forget. We all gathered in that small tent out in the cemetery. As the lone trumpeter played taps and the 21 gun salute was finished, a quiet calm came over us, and in the distance, the noon whistle blew, and we know that dad was coming home. Joni Bullias
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