Ghosts and Radios/Happy Fathers Day

 

Ghosts and Radios

My dad was the youngest of four brothers. These brilliant men were all physicists and they all played the violin. Someone once referred to them as the vio-physicists; I loved that. Sadly, my dad ended up with dementia and even though he was the youngest, he was the first of the four brothers to die. We lost him in 2007 at the age of 80. His older brothers remained sharp and mostly healthy for many years. The third youngest, my Uncle Melvin, is 99 and doing great. The year after daddy died there was a large family party for his second oldest brother Elmer’s 90th birthday in Houston. The remaining brothers, along with my sisters and every one of my first cousins decided to gather. The Jewish term for a happy occasion is a 'Simcha'. This translates to happiness. In our extended family, people make it their business to travel far and wide for these events. There were multiple generations in attendance from all over. It was wonderful being together, but my dad’s absence was like a gnawing toothache. He left such a gap. It was a lovely weekend. Houston is an enormous sprawling city, so getting from place to place was a bit of a hassle. This was before google maps or Waze and we spent more time than we wanted getting lost. We were constantly calling Sandy back in San Francisco to get out a map and navigate for us. On the last day of the trip, we were on our way to a BBQ at the home of Uncle Melvin. I was in the car with my mom and both of my sisters. My older sister was driving. We were having a conversation about how much we missed dad, but somehow felt his presence. We all realized that while we were talking, Marjie had missed the exit. We immediately started giving different directions to poor Marjie. “Go straight, go right, go left” At the SAME moment, with all of us shouting out, we realized that the car radio was now blasting. Rap music was pulsating. It was cacophonous. There was no way we would have been able to talk over that. Marjie reached over to turn off the radio. “Did any of you turn that on?” None of us had. The radio had simply turned on. It happened right when we were thinking about dad. “Dad? Was that you? Rap music? Really???? That’s the best you could do?” We found our way to Uncle Melvin's and of course we were all buzzing about how the radio had seemed to spontaneously turn on. They all looked at us sideways. I don't blame them. If I hadn't been in the car I would have had a hard time believing it. During the course of the afternoon, I asked uncle Melvin what the classical station was, so that we could listen to that on the way to the airport. My dad would have preferred classical to rap, hands down. “That would be 88.7 of course” A few hours later, when we returned to the car, the radio was already on as soon as we started the engine. I know that we had turned it off when we left the car. It was no longer tuned into the rap station. It was set on 88.7. Vivaldi was playing. Wow, so had someone snuck the keys away from Marjie, gone into the car and changed the station? I didn’t think so. I really felt like this was a hug from my father. It didn’t need to make sense, my heart was full from it. Later that week, my cousin shared an article about uncle Elmer, the birthday boy that had been written in a local paper.. In the interview, he recounted that when he and his brothers were young, someone had given them an old broken radio. It had become their hobby and passion to fix it and learn all about how it worked. This started them all on the path that lead them to become scientists. This was the first I had learned about my dad’s early fascination with radios. It made me feel even more certain that I had gotten a message from him. Several days later when I was back in San Francisco, my dear friend Melanie came over for tea. She was a pathologist and scientist to the core. I told her the story of the radio that seemed to turn on by itself and she smiled gently. “If it makes you feel good to believe that it was your dad, that is fine, but I think somehow, something turned it on. Maybe somebody nudged it without realizing it. There is usually an explanation. She headed home but called me later that day. “Uncle! I concede!” “Excuse me?” “I was driving home from your house and I swear to you, my radio was suddenly playing. I know I didn’t turn it on” Well done Daddy!!! If one accepts that spirits are energy and are looking for ways to communicate, radios continue to be easily managed by my dad. When Alana was away at school, her radio routinely turned on without human touch. It still happens, but he has moved on to cell phones. Mine is completely possessed and makes calls at random without being touched.