Three years ago my father died, he was only 57. He died in the hospital, he was sick for about three months, cancer. Before his illness, his electrical appliances started breaking down in his hands, like two tablets one after the other.
So, before he died, when he was sick, I often ran into pigeons. One was sitting in the stairwell, the second kind of sat on the window in the apartment, the third was fluttering in the street with its neck twisted. This was not on the same day, but on different days. And then I thought they were signs. Until the pigeon with the twisted neck, I thought they were good signs, like messengers.
He died in the morning, the last time I saw him was late at night, he was having some sort of hallucination (never had that before), he thought he couldn't start the car, he tried, but wouldn't start.
The nurse we hired was with him all the time, when he died she said he showed her with his fingers on his hand that he was leaving and smiled. After that, he stared at one point for a long time and passed away.
We were buried on the 4th day (because of the weekend). I thought about whether to drive my car to the funeral or ask a friend, as the emotional state was rubbish. All the same, I decided to go, but on the third day to fill up the car. Drove by the temple, where the next day my father was buried and, approaching the temple (and it is on the road), I lit up a check (engine error), and I began to stall, barely made it and finally stalled at the temple. Tried to start and didn't understand what was wrong.
I got out of the car - the temple bells were ringing, it was evening.
Opened the hood, decided to unplug the battery terminals, and when I put it back, the car was locked, along with the keys in the cabin. I had to ask a friend to go home and get my dad's keys to the car and bring them to me. I opened it with them, and then I just realized that the hose with the gearbox oil was torn, I had to call a tow truck, and the next day to ask my friend to use his car to go to the funeral.
The car is a family car, my father took great care of it, in addition, my father was a mechanic and driver by profession. Up to that point and after him, the car has never broken down.
I would also add that when he was sick, somewhere in the middle of his illness, in the hospital, he would say that he had the feeling that he was flying out the window. He said that several times. He also said a couple of times that he felt like he was in the clouds, even like a haze in front of his eyes.
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