On Sunday, January 23, 1965, three weeks after my father Frederick Kendall died, I had an experience that proved to me that life survives this plane of existence.
At noon that day I walked into my mother’s house in Short Hills, New Jersey, and found my mother, Natalie Kendall, eating lunch in the living room as she watched a tennis match on Television. I decided to let her be and to stroll around the house just to check things out.
I went upstairs and into my mother and father’s bedroom; I opened door to my father’s walk- in closet. Totally lost in thought, I must have spent about five minutes looking at my father’s things-shirts, suits, shoes. By the time I shut the closet door, I was overcome by a deep sadness and the realization that I would never again hear my father’s voice.
He and I been very close and I was going to miss him terribly. Tears came to my eyes. Instead of going back downstairs, I went into the hall bathroom to try to pull myself together. I splashed my eyes and face with cold water. Instead of helping, this made me break down altogether.
All the pent up emotions I had tried so hard to control over the past few weeks came flooding out. No matter that I did, the sobbing continued. Since I was trying to comfort Mom, I certainly didn’t want her to see me this way.
Finally, to snap myself out of my distress, I concocted a lie.” Why am I acting like this ? ” I said to my self. “Dad never really loved me anyway.” I spoke these words, I gained Strength and control. At the same time, however, a feeling of guilt took hold of me.
Then, at that precise moment, an unspoken message sounded inside my mind. ” Go downstairs,” it said. “Your mother has something to tell you.”
I knew that as soon as I opened the bathroom door my mother would call to me- and I know exactly what she would tell me. To this day I can’t explain it, but it was as if I had written a script and my mother acted it out.
I opened the door and stepped out into the hall to hear my mother call, “David, please come downstairs. I have something to tell you.” As I entered the living room, she said, smiling nervously, “You’re going to think I’m nuts but I just got a message from your father. He insists that I tell you that he loves you very much.”
David A. Kendall
Madison, New Jersey