Daddy

Dreams have a way of keeping the unfamiliar familiar. My father died when I was just five years old. I spent many years in my youth reliving the same nightmare…a man walking toward me with no face. Oh I was afraid and even more so when I woke. But then again I found solace in two memories of my father.

I was told not to play in the wood pile. I took a fall face first into the nail and as I walked with the board stuck to my head I remember hearing a male’s voice, “Linda, hold her!”  Linda is my mother. The instant I felt my mother’s hands grab my waist from behind I saw his arms and the board was on the ground. Dad had pulled it away so fast I hadn’t time to know it was about to happen. I was embraced by his large arms. I never saw his face.

The second is of me crying in a white basinet. It was storming outside. I was an infant. I know how could I remember that far back, but the thing is I do. My father’s hands reached down to pick me up. Again I didn’t see his face. I cannot explain how I know it was my father I just do.  Maybe one day more of the five years I had with him will return in my dreams or memories, but for right now Daddy saved me twice when I was little. That’s my story.

William Franklin Simpson Jr 1942-1966

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About Ann Simpson

Ann Simpson lives in Falmouth, Virginia near the Civil War Battlegrounds of Historic Fredericksburg. Most of her paranormal writing takes place in the early morning before the family wakes and the spirits rest. She loves to write and read paranormal mysteries, suspense and drama. Book one of the Dark Guests Series, The Genealogist's Guests, was published in October 2013. Ann is currently writing book two, of which she may title, Megan's Heritage, sounds great...I just came up with it. I think I'll keep it!

Posted on October 1, 2011, in Ancestry, Family Stories and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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