Luigi's ADC

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Experience description:

I'm a real estate agent. About a month prior to my father's death a family acquaintance had expressed the wish to purchase an apartment. I had then taken her out on a tour of a few units available on the market until she selected one that was particularly nice. As this acquaintance is very close to my parents, of course my father wanted to make sure that she was fully happy and satisfied with her choice as well as with my services. Had it not been for his illness, he would have come along to inspect the unit himself prior to her making the offer.

Even when he was on his deathbed, my father asked if the apartment was nice and I did reassure him in this particular respect several times. The offer was subject to the acquaintance obtaining bank financing with the subject removal scheduled for Tuesday, April 27, 1999 . My father died on Monday, April 26, 1999 . As there was an appointment already scheduled with the banker, notwithstanding my father's death I informed the acquaintance that there was no point in delaying the meeting and that we should have gone ahead with the removal of the subject.

We then went to the bank. The manager, who also knew my Dad and was told of his passing, expressed his condolences. He then proceeded to inform us that everything was fine and that he was simply waiting for one final document to come before giving us the green light. While he was explaining to my client all the various mortgage clauses I looked up and ... right behind the bank manager there he was ... my Dad . He was dressed up in his regular clothes, looked a bit younger , was all smiles and nodded his head in approval while looking at me. Telepathically - that is without moving his lips - he told me that I would not have removed the subject that day but the following day, April 28, 1999 - his birthdate. Dad looked 'luminous' : I could see him clearly but also I could see through him. His eyes were staring at me. They did not blink ( I was looking straight at them all the time ). He looked radiant and happy.

I was speechless, stupefied and white as a sheet ! The manager turned around to see why I was staring at the wall with my mouth open. He then asked if I wanted a glass of water. The acquaintance too asked if I was feeling well. Neither of them, of course, saw my father.

My father was still there and gradually dissipated into thin air. The last ones to go where his eyes still looking intently, deeply, intelligently and happily at me. Sure enough the missing document did not come that day but the day after. It was not a problem to extend the deadline of one day. On my father's birthday the transaction was finalized.

As a side remark, the day of the viewing at the funeral home, when I saw my father in the open casket, I could not refrain from exclaiming - perhaps a little too loud - that " this cadaver is not my father " . A remark, this, that raised a few eyebrows. What I meant to say is that although it looked like him, there was something missing. In the emotion of the moment, however, I could not figure out what was missing. The funeral director was the only one who understood what I meant. During the break he took me on the side and very calmly and very gently explained that : " ... of course that is not your father. It is only an empty shell ".