I had been carrying Dad's tarot cards for months. It was time to read them.
So... ten swords in the back represents a *negative* past, eh? I think I could learn to Tarot. (Check out how I used tarot as a verb. In the future, everyone will say things like, "Do you want to Tarot on Tuesday?" and "So it was Saturday night and we were taroting in Donny's basement." Cool stuff.) Cool stuff, Tonya. It seems like your dad held on to the tarot deck as a place-holder, or a string tied around his finger, until he had the chance to do some real exploration.
Sounds to me like your dad was familiar with A Course in Miracles. The earth as a school room for souls…🌸❤️
I just might have to learn more about tarot cards. how lovely you have your Dads and the history and connection to them.
You write so beautifully about your father. And by holding onto your memories and sharing them, you are keeping his spirit alive in this world. And as long as he is remembered, he will still be here.
And yes, that Tarot is no chance occurrence.
Great comment on writer's hour made me look here... and this one I had to read. My folks listened to psychics. Some of my best friends are psychics. I tend to have vast intuitive skills I take for granted. SO DO YOU!