I left my Pa's hospital room that night. I had watched him for hours before knowing that it would be the last time I was with him in his earthly body. I drove the long way home from the Freemason's private hospital in Melbourne city back to our home suburb, Oak Park. I couldn't sleep for the longest time, my partner snoring up a storm next to me slowly lulled me to a waking sleep. My Pa was there. He looked up from his book and smiled. He was in his Lodge tuxedo, he was a Freemason Grand Master. He was always proudest in his lodge wear and apron. He told me how much he loved me and all of a sudden the birghtest white light began encasing him. He turned towards it but turned back to me and mouthed the words "it's okay now" and I bolted upright in a cold sweat. It was 9.47pm Faintly in the background of the house the landline was ringing. He was gone. My mother came into my room to tell me. I asked what time he passed and she said "9.47pm. We have to go back to say goodbye before he is taken (my Pa was very ill and had donated his body to the science medical department of Monash Medical. His reasoning was if he was ill with so many things, maybe his body which he didn't need could help find cures for all his ailments) I arrived at the hospital and sat with him. My uncle and father had put his fireman's uniform on him, as it was what he loved. And also what had killed him. I couldn't take it. I took the elevator down to have a smoke. Alone in the elevator it missed my ground floor destination and went to the morgue. Nobody was there. There was a whoosh of old air into the elevator and it creaked as though someone stepped on. The elevator then proceeded back to the floor where Pa was. He hated my smoking. He smoked for years and the toxic gases and fumes from fires he attended in the 40s and 50s with no breathing apparatus is what caused the fast spreading cancer that took him. Was it him giving me a quiet final warning about not having that smoke on account of him? I like to think so. A month later I miraculously survived a high speed head on collision, with a collision speed of 160km/h. I was later told there was an old man in an MFB uniform standing in the trees watching.