My father passed away around 1991 from throat cancer. He had been a smoker all his life, as was I. He lived in Florida and all his kids lived in Ohio. We all went to visit him just prior to his death. It was horrible to see him like that and in so much pain.
About a month after his demise, I was sitting in my living room at home alone (just me and my dogs). I lit a cigarette and laid it down in the ashtray on the end table next to my couch to go into the kitchen and get a drink. I was not really thinking of anyone or anything in particular, just thirsty. When I returned to the living room to enjoy my cigarette, my drink and watch some TV what I found freaked me out...my freshly lit cigarette and the ashtray it was in were sitting in the middle of the living room floor!
All I could think was, “OK, Dad, I get it!”.
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