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Opening Heaven's Door - Patricia Pearson

The grand daughter's dream - I had a dream where he asked me to take him home, that he couldn't die here in Seattle, that he needed to get back to the farm. I remember the dream being outside, with miles of hills and forests and roads around, and he was very weak looking. He kept asking me to take him home but I couldn't figure out how to get him there.
I asked him how and he said I could carry him, but I wasn't strong enough and I told him so. He told me that he really needed to get home and knew I could carry him there if I really tried. So I boosted
him and started to walk.
Karen: Dad arrived home [back East] on a Saturday.  On Sunday night, he insisted on cooking dinner for us, [for her, her husband, and her sons], and the next day he was going to a farmers' convention. The last sight of him I had was early in the morning; he waved at me and woofed our newspaper close to our door with an overhead throw.

That night, on the way to the convention banquet, he had a massive heart attack and died.

After Dad died, I began driving his big, old Ford Taurus. It was comforting, in a way, the way you hang on to people's shirts. But that's all it was. Until about six weeks after he died.

lt was a very cold night in January. I'm driving on the highway, and into the passenger seat comes Dad. I could feel him settle in.  He had a very distinctive lean to the left, because of the way his back was. Also, you know how you know the sound of people's breathing?
How you can tell whether it's your son or your daughter in the room?
There was Dad. He rode with me from about Kennedy Road to Pickering. [Ten miles.] It was incredibly real, and it was completely transforming. I was almost giddy. I was hoping he would stay.