Somehow, I was sitting by a stream. Not a stream, THE stream, the one I dreamed about. The steam in woods by my house. I wasn’t dreaming though, I felt this. The sun was shining through the trees, it’s warmth not stopped by the leaves. I reached out and blocked the shine with my fingers. Non gnarled fingers. I flexed them so I could confirm what I felt. No pain. I brought my hand to my mouth,no mask and tube. Maybe I was dreaming. “Hello son.”

I whirled around at that voice, it was wired into my soul. I’ve never seen the man using before. At least not in the flesh. Only in photos had I seen the face before. An odd blend of myself and my eldest brother, but with bigger ears. “Dad? Am I dead?” The mid 20s man before me nodded. “Yes you are, the last of my kids to cross, I wanted to be here for you.”

I looked around me to see if anyone else had appeared. “Where is Mom and everyone else? Bill and Sandy had to have made it to heaven if I did. I understand the others not being here.” Young dad laughed. Of course he would, we all got our bad sense of humor from him. He motioned to a rock “have a seat. Everyone is here and not here.” He squinted his face to match what I just did at this confusing statement. “You’re dead and you can do whatever you want. The family isn’t here because you didn’t think of them. You thought of this place first. Is this the creek in the woods?” He paused. “Yes sir, older I got the more I dreamed about walking along it again. They were my best dreams.” I replied. He continued “and now you can walk from here to the Ohio, down through the Mississippi, and to New Orleans. Or go up stream and wind up near Walton. You control your reality. You can do what you want to do, go where you want and see who you want. Only if they want to though. I’m sure all your siblings would want to see you, your mother as well. When you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready?” My obvious surprise face was being mirrored by my dad. He waved his hands around “standing in a creek bottom. This is what you wanted.” “I don’t remember you being an asshole to your kids while you were alive” I replied with a tone. I assume it had a tone, because young dad balled up his fist and jokingly said “we’re both young now, and I will easily kick your butt.”

I laughed, then thought. I put my face in my hands. “You’re right. I want to be alone. I just spent weeks in a bed having my wife, my girls, and grandkids telling me they love me in a way that I knew meant I was dying. Nurses telling me how chipper I was if I managed to pee. Constant noises. I wanted to be alone.”

I raised my head. Young dad was gone. It was just the creek, birds, and trees. I knew there were roads just over the hill, but there was no traffic. He always read me like a book. Mom was smarter, but Dad just knew more. I picked up a branch the perfect height for a walking stick. Upstream today, I’ll cut across land to Big Bone, follow it to the Ohio.

“72201, your sustenance is at the top of the steps.” I called out as I closed the door. Footsteps begin across the basement floor, finally making their way up the stairs. I hear the fork jostle against the edge of the plate as the thing descends to its pile of blankets.

A knock on the door of the basement is how I know meal time has been completed. I open the door and see the shadow moving away from the steps. “Plate retrieved 72201” I call out. Garbled inhuman noises is the only response.

A minute later my phone buzzes. “I have a name” reads the text. I reply back “now you know how I felt when you guys quarantined me in the basement for Covid. Turn about is fair play.”

Based on a true and currently active story.

I’ve enjoyed each of these responses and props to OP, love the prompt.