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God’s White Waiting Room

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I had a dream about fifteen years ago regarding my dead father that I know was another dimension reality. I never told anyone about the dream until last year and only because a friend of mine relayed a very similar dream to me. She dreamt of a mutual friend that had died suddenly coming to her to say good-bye after he died. He came to her in a white room that was like a clinic waiting room. The friend was dressed the same as my father in my dream. My friend told me she knew she had the dream (visit), because she had needed the closure of a good bye from our friend.

My father died in 1984. I was twenty-five when he died. He died unexpectedly and quickly from a heart attack quite young at sixty-one. I had a love/hate relationship with him. He was very abusive to me and my sisters growing up. I loved him because he was my father, but his extreme abuse caused a strained relationship even after I moved out at seventeen. When he died, I was sad, but somewhat neutral with his passing. All of the anger I had for him left me almost immediately upon his death. I could look back on my childhood and remember the good times and was quite neutral about the bad.

I was not particularly thinking about my father the day I had the “white room” dream about him that night. It was about ten years after my father died. In the dream, I was brought to a room that was entirely white. It looked and felt like a hospital waiting room. The floor was white tile. The walls were all white. There were a few white stark chairs. There were white blinds on the windows that were on one wall. There was overhead stark white lighting. There was no smell or sound in the room.

In the room, I saw a gray-haired man dressed in a white t-shirt with white pants facing the window with his back to me directly across from me. As I seemed to “float” closer, the man turned around, and I realized it was my father. He seemed a little thinner than I had remembered him, and he looked older than he was when he died. My father was sixty-one when he died—he looked about 71–75 in the dream. His face was a little thinner and drawn with a few more wrinkles. His face looked very pained and remorseful. I was taken aback by this a bit. He “said” to me, “I am sorry.” The words were conveyed mind-to-mind, not verbally. I was neutral in my feelings toward him and said nothing back. There were no other people in the room, but I did sense there may have been “a being” looking in or over the exchange that was unseen by me. 

When I woke up, I “knew” I had really “been there.” It felt like my father was in a “clinic” of some kind. It felt like he was dealing with and coming to terms with the pain he had caused others in this last life. I felt neutral toward him—not sad, not validated, not anything really. I did feel awed by the dream reality itself somewhat—awed at being shown another dimension.

For background, I have many dreams that are precognitive and have experienced seeing or feeling spirits many times. This began when I was about eleven when my older brother died in a car accident at age twenty. I believe in reincarnation and that you choose your parents, siblings, spouse, etc before you incarnate. I have had dreams that I know to be of past incarnations. I meditate often. I often feel a sense that time and space really do not exist except for incarnation.


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