(bryanism on: And you'll know as you follow on to know -- part II)
 Yesterday, I called to see that my mother had arrived home safely with those pies. for being concerned she'd hit the breaks at some traffic light (while in transit) sending one of those pies flying off the back seat onto the floor. Glad that didn't happen. 
When my dad picked up the phone, I was surpised by the sudden urge to tell him that I felt his youngest brother Gordon (two years deceased), in my house for the past three days, which for me was rare, particularly that it was Gordon -- another uncle I loved, but hadn't built a strong relationship with like I had with the other aunts and uncles. 
My dad, as you know, is a pastor, pentacostal preacher and evangelist who believes you die and go to heaven or hell, no stops in between; so to acknowledge Gordy's (nick name) presence here on earth in my house is completely outside the context of his (and my original) belief. 
Now, don't get me wrong. Sixth sense runs strongly in my family, and daddy even boasts of it, as I have a first cousin, a female named Bobbie, who around age 9, would see 'visitors' drop by especially during family gatherings, which is when she'd inquire to nearby adults, "Who's that man standing over there in the corner?" to which adults would reply, "What man...where?" 
Instead of doubting, they'd ask for a description, and then someone who knew might surely 'get the description' saying, "Lord, that sounds like Uncle Bob, she's talkin' about." 
Someone would get an old family album, open to a page full of pictures, and then ask cousin Bobbie to pick the one she's seeing 'over there in the corner;' and sure enough, she'd pick Uncle Bob, for example, -- or some other family member who had died years before Bobbie was born. This happened frequently. 
Well, anyway I took a chance and admitted, "Daddy, Uncle Gordy was here today, and he's been here for several days around this Christmas Time," not knowing how he'd respond. 
To my surprise, he told me that Uncle Robert, my dad's oldest living brother and father to Cousin Bobbie (just mentioned), had some recent odd experiences upstairs in his house, literally in the room where Gordy lived most of his adult life. 
Daddy said according to Uncle Robert, "Lately Gordy's old radio cuts on by itself, and I can't turn it off by any means," and this happened after Uncle Robert would go to Gordy's old room, to sit, remember and sometimes weep. 
Then daddy said, many years ago, it wasn't uncommon to be walking down the street with his eldest sister, Carmen, and she'd say something like, "Why don't y'all move aside and let that nice man pass!" Someone noone saw but her; yet noone ever questioned it. 
I concluded, "Daddy, I believe in the bible and its scripture like you do, but I also believe there's something more to this." 
For example, when my eldest brother died, just a few days before his funeral, I was standing at the mirror in my own house, when I saw this sphere that looked like a bubble, freshly blown from a bubbles wand, appear in the upper left hand corner of the room, shifting colors that I'd not seen before and giving off a light that did not illumanate the wall or ceiling in proximity. It just floated up and went through the wall. Even I, at the time, didn't know it was my brother's soul, but I sure did tell everyone about it when asked to come up and read a composition I'd written about my oldest brother Chucky during his funeral. 
All my dad would say in a dispondent way was, "Why can't I see any of these things?" 
That admission shocked me, yet I tried to compose a response that might sound like, "Well, Daddy, it's something about your belief, what you'll allow, or what you'd expect," but I couldn't find the right words, so I kept them to myself. 
Something I'd not admit to daddy is the reason why Gordy came to see me. Gordy came by to thank me, because I was the one who arranged hospice, so that he could die at home (in my Uncle Robert's house), something the sibblings always wanted, but were afraid to initiate in case he needed clinical intervention, and there'd be noone to provide it, which is when I explained that nothing more could be done anyway, and that he's only coming home to transition in familiar surroundings with family and close friends in attendance to bear witness. I know daddy was grateful to me too that I initiated this, as it was widely known throughout the family, that I popped up at the hospital in a nic of time to get hospice arrangements started. Later daddy told me that Gordy said, "Detroit Avenue sure looks good," as he looked out the window of the van that brought him home from the hospital for the last time. While on earth, Gordy had no knowledge that I had set up hospice for his final days. 
All-in-all, daddy actually seemed comforted and never was challenged by my admitting Gordy's presence or any experience, for that matter, that might defy his core biblical belief, the very same upon which I had expounded down through the years through my interest in metaphysics. 
I believe, as Daddy grows older, coming close to his own transition, he hopes to be reunited with his siblings and parents in way the bible doesn't explain/describe; and I'll tell him more of what he needs to know and what it's really like, as he goes on to know.