Shortly after Dad has his second procedure to remove gallstones, he related a story to me.
"I woke up and there was a man in my room. He was wearing a white suit."
"It was probably just a dream, Dad." Either that or tripping on whatever medication the hospital sent him home with.
"No, it wasn't a dream. I was awake."
"Did you know the man?"
"No, just that he was wearing a white suit."
All I could picture was Mr. Roarke from the television show Fantasy Island or Tattoo, Mr. Roarke's little dude sidekick. Boss, de plane! de plane!
Did this man talk to you?"
"No, but I heard a voice say, 'Not now, they still have time.'"
Dad was not at all upset about a stranger in his room.
"Your mother heard the voice too."
"Yes, because she asked me the next morning who was in the house."
Not exactly what I would call a good witness as Ma hears someone singing risque Italian songs all the time.
"God sends someone to come and take you home."
Dad seemed quite comforted by this thought. Now I have heard this type of story, though I had heard it was always a family member or someone you knew who came to help you cross over. Not a complete stranger. On the other hand, The Happy Wanderer would gladly go with anyone that offered him a lift.