At Sunday Mass yesterday, the Gospel recounted how an angel appeared to St. Joseph in a dream—guiding him, protecting him, and reassuring him of God’s plan. And last night, I couldn’t help but believe that an angel brought my dad to visit me, too.

If you’re new here, my dad passed away peacefully in his sleep in November 2012. Ever since, All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day have carried deep meaning for me. They remind me that my dad may now be among the saints, interceding for me in Heaven—and that the souls in Purgatory depend on our prayers as they journey home to God.

Last night’s dream felt different. I dreamt that I was asleep, and my dad kept leaning over to give me his signature whiskery kisses—the kind that used to make me laugh and squirm. My heart soared with the comfort of feeling him so close again. I kept waking up, half-expecting him to still be there.

Of course, he wasn’t—at least not in the way I once knew him. But perhaps he was present in a new and sacred way.

Dreams can be powerful, especially when we recognize God moving through them. Yet they are not meant to replace our lives here on earth. As the saying goes, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. God gave me a profound Christmas gift in that moment—an embrace that reminded me of love that does not end with death. But both my Heavenly Father and my earthly one would want me to keep living fully, faithfully, and with hope.

Until the day I see my two Fathers again, I ask my dad to intercede for me—always according to God’s will.

Saint Michael Andrew, pray for us.