Jordan Bench

A few weeks after my dad passed away on March 29, 2025, Abbey and I took a quick trip to Arizona for my 30th birthday. It was just a three- or four-day trip — nothing crazy — but it ended up being one of those trips you never forget.

One night while we were there, I had a dream that felt different than any I can really remember. I don't dream often. In the dream, I saw a wide, bright pillar of light. And from the light, an angel appeared.

It was my dad.

He didn't say anything. He just looked at me and smiled — a huge, bright smile. He was dressed in white, almost like he was wearing his temple clothes, and everything about the moment felt peaceful and powerful.

I woke up knowing deep down: he's aware of me. He's watching over me.

The rest of that day was full of little nods to him, almost like he was saying, "I'm close."

One moment that stood out: Abbey and I were sampling ice cream after dinner. I tried this dark chocolate flavor that was rich and bold — and as soon as I tasted it, I turned to Abbey and said, "This is my dad. He would love this." It was exactly the kind of thing he would have gone crazy over.

Later that evening, we were out at dinner for my birthday at Tommy Bahama's. Before the trip, we had collected a gift cards — determined to use them up for once — and by this dinner, we had just about exhausted them all. When the check came, I reached for my wallet, realizing we didn't have any more gift cards left.

That's when I noticed a hundred-dollar bill tucked away.

Prior to my dad passing and close to the end of his life, I asked him what he had to look forward from day-to-day. His response, "I like seeing my kids and giving them hundred dollar bills". It was a quiet way of saying, "I love you, I'm proud of you."

I looked at Abbey, smiled, and said, "This one's on my dad."

We both got a little teary-eyed sitting there, recognizing again how close he really still is — still finding ways to be a part of our lives.

I know he's doing okay.

And that day, and that dream, helped me really feel it.

Just wanted to write it down so I don't forget.