The Hungry Dead
My father died of esophageal cancer.
For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones.
The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream.
"I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make."
My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave.
The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot.
Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband.
That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well.
"Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so lon
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