My dad and I used to send each other links in email all the time and talk about stories we heard on NPR or This American Life or wherever.  Of course I’m doing that thing that everyone does when they lose someone so close to them; I’m finding myself reading something and thinking that my dad would like it and I should send it to him for just a fraction of a second before I remember that I can’t.  Is it dumb that I’m really sad for him that he won’t get to watch Treme?  He saw a couple of the new episodes in the hospital, on his laptop, but he’d been really looking forward to watching it this season. 

I don’t know if I believe that he knows everything now, or nothing. 

Last night Lex and I had some time just the two of us, and we talked about my dad and cried.  A lot.  I told him about a dream I had: I’d gone to my dad’s house and when I went to knock on the door there was a window in it (not so in his actual house) and I could see him inside.  And he came to the door to let me in, and the look on his face – I swear it was that he looked sorry for having died and left us all here, but his eyes were still smiling at me, like always.  And in the dream I said, Hi, Dad.  I can’t remember why I came over, but I know needed to give you a hug.  And as I went to hug him, I sort of knew I was dreaming and that he wasn’t really here anymore, and so I held onto him until he let me go and he took a step back.  And he kissed my forehead and that was all.  

1 thought on “Dream

  1. Heather C.

    That’s a beautiful dream. I like the dreams where they hug us. My father never speaks in my dreams but he too has very expressive eyes when he appears.
    Be gentle with yourself.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *