What just happened? Was I hallucinating? Did someone poison the cigarette? Did Erica see what I had just seen? God, I hope so! When I finally turned to her, Erica, who had never met my uncle when he was alive, had eyes as wide as saucers and her mouth hanging open, just as mine were. “Holy shit,” she said, in quiet awe. She had heard enough about his life and his death, had seen many pictures, to know exactly who we just saw.  
We began to cry from the shock as we both internalized the magnitude of what just transpired. We didn’t know what to do. Should we stay in case he came back? Or run up to the house and tell someone? Finally, the fear hit us and we ran up the driveway, shrieking and trembling. I had to tell Dad and I did not know how he was going to take it. 
We burst through the front door in a rush of panic. Dad is standing in the living room, about to settle in for some t.v. time. “Dad! Dad, I have to tell you something!” I’m hysterical, shaking like a leaf. All I can do is shout in quick bursts. “We were down at the bottom of the driveway, we saw a headlight come up over the hill, it was a motorcycle! We were waiting to see if they would turn or not! They kept coming, we were waiting for them to pass!” I stopped to make sure he was following my words. He stared, waiting for me to continue. “It was like slow motion! It was Uncle Mark! We just saw Uncle Mark drive by on his motorcycle! He slowed down, looked right at us, smiled, and kept going!”  
My dad just kept staring at me, taking it in, blinking. I continued, “He was wearing his combat boots, the pinstriped jacket that I couldn’t find, and his mirror sunglasses! I could even see his dimples! We watched him drive away toward the park!” Dad stared.  I was almost in tears again. “I’m being serious!” I yelled. Erica and I stood there, looking anxiously at each other and back at him. Why wasn’t he excited? Or curious? Or frantic?  
Finally, he shakes his head from side to side and says: “No. I don’t believe that’s possible. I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t my brother.” I begin to protest, but he puts up his hands, says “No. Not possible.” He chuckles, shaking his head, then waves us off. Dismissed, conversation over. I was stunned. I was never a kid who lied. I expected him to believe me. I just had the most amazing, supernatural experience of my life, concerning his own little brother, my beloved uncle, and my father didn’t want to have anything to do with it. In the end, unfortunately, that is the way it stayed. 
My curiosity and fascination in the paranormal and supernatural was born that night that my perception of reality was changed. It has led me to live open-minded and to believe that anything is possible (unlike my dad). With that comes a belief in the power of miracles and love, a sense of humor, wonder at everyday life and what it has in store for us. And a certainty, thanks to Uncle Mark, that we exist even after death.
