My dad has been gone for over six years.  When he passed away I began to find dimes everywhere.  They were in drawers, in the washer, in the laundry basket, on the floor and on the ground and I couldn’t help but feel it was some type of sign.  I learned, after a bit of research online, that I am not the only person that has had this happen and the others believe what I believe.  Someone is making an attempt to communicate with us and for whatever reason, in my case, I fully believed it was my dad.

We were never all that close as I wasn’t all that willing to wander too far away from my mother’s apron strings.  She was my most favorite person ever.  She made the best angel food cake with the fluffy egg white frosting and she let me bake and iron and wash dishes whenever I wanted and not once do I ever remember her being upset with me in any way nor do I ever remember her making me cry.

My dad, on the other hand, made me cry a lot.  It wasn’t always what he said but rather how he said it.  The man struggled with delivery when it came to communicating with all of us.  He would yell and we would either sit there motionless and stunned or burst into tears and run out of the room.

Finding dimes for me has tapered off now. Recently, however,  I did have a couple fall out of a Star Trek poster that I was removing from the frame so I could replace the glass and I instantly thought of dad.   It’s not every day dimes just fall out of pictures.  I’ve removed a lot of pictures from frames and to date, this Star Trek poster is the only one that made an attempt to “pay” me for my services.  Perhaps it was dad sending me a message letting me know he was happy I had a new job and maybe he was even saying he was proud of me.

He never met Don but he and Don share a lot of similarities.  Dad always gave us a sense of security and I always knew we were safe, no matter what.  Don does this for me now.  Dad always put food on the table and clothes on our backs and he always made sure we had gifts at Christmas.  Don never wants us to be without and he has given me three of the most unimaginable Christmases I have ever known.  Dad could always fix it.  Don always has a solution.  These two men have a connection.  It’s undeniable but they’ve never met.

The other day Don sent a picture to me from his phone.  He told me I would have to look hard but he was sure I would see what I needed to see.   It was another dime.  I say another as this isn’t the first time Don has found one.  It’s actually happening quite often now.  He said it was right where he was working, on the shelf.

Dad and I weren’t close but now, after all these years, I do finally believe he loved me and  for whatever reason, after looking at the picture Don sent I remembered the silly little nickname dad had for me which led to the memory of all those times he would sit me on his lap and give me whisker rubs and other times when he would clip my fingernails as he was so afraid I would bend them backwards when they got too long. This rough, tough 6’4″ man really did love me and now, perhaps he’s making every attempt to let the wonderful man in my life know that he is worthy of all the joy he has yet to experience in the years ahead with the little girl that rough, tough man called Prunegger!