I dreamt the other night that I was walking somewhere through a crowd of people at some big event. I passed an outdoor patio with cafe tables and I looked at the one with a group of about 4 men. Dad was sitting right there smiling up at me. He was wearing one of his black Adidas wind breaker coats, his face was nice and tan like he had just finished a perfect day of golf, and he looked so happy. In my dream I knew that dad had died. I remember thinking of what my friend Carolyn told me, that I need to look and listen wherever I go and I will be surprised at how present he really is. In my dream I wondered if this was what my dad was trying to do by coming to me looking like himself in a random stranger. I stared at him with tears in my eyes as I walked by the table. The thing that stood out the most was how real he looked, how alive he was, and most of all how happy and full of joy he seemed. I walked past the table and looked back over my shoulder to see him still watching me, smiling and laughing like he always did when he was in his fun, excited mood. I waved to him, turned back around, and kept walking without looking back for fear of him disappearing. Something told me in that moment that he wanted me to know that he was OK, he was happy, and that he was always watching me. Disoriented, I woke up only to realize in dismay that what had felt so real had only been a figment of my subconscious desires. Another stupid dream. Or could it have been more than that?
As I was stressing out about some things in life the other day and having a hard time with missing my dad, Mike told me to breathe and reassured me that we would be OK and that everything was going to work out as it always does. He reminded me that some of these things were only a small part of life, and that dad would be so proud of me and is probably keeping an eye on me all the time. It’s possible that imagining my dad watching me was part of what brought this dream to me. I’ve been wanting so greatly to be able to simply see him again, the real him and not the dream version. To hug him and talk to him and see that smile that seemed to be especially for me. But he never comes to me in real life. I’ve been frustrated lately as I go around looking for him all the time in my every day activities. Things will always remind me of him: the geese flying by me, the way Mike cuts vegetables so thin and precisely they would get a big stamp of approval from dad, the patient with cancer who smiled up at me when I covered him with his blankets, the basketball net across the street and the way dad would say, “Try to arc it, Kate!”. There are so many times dad is with me in those moments, and the reminders make me smile or make me cry. But what I want right now more than anything is to truly see his face and to know that he is happy again.
The week of my birthday in December I had been battling sadness and loneliness as I realized this was the first year I wouldn’t see dad or hear his excited voice for his little girl on her birthday. I’d been praying that some how, in some way, I might be able to feel his presence on that day. To know that he was still there and thinking of me and celebrating what he and Mom were so proud of that day 28 years ago. The night going into my birthday, I went to bed and shortly after falling asleep I saw him in my dreams as a healthy, happy version of dad. We hugged for a while, I cried, he asked his classic “What’s wrong Kate?” to which I replied, “I just love you so much”. We talked and laughed and he reminded me what it felt like to be next to him. I felt the evidence of his love as clearly as I ever have. I woke up later with that moment still fresh in my mind and had an odd sensation of being enveloped in warmth despite the cold room I was sleeping in. There was something more to that dream than what I created on my own, and it didn’t leave me the rest of that day. I’ve been thinking lately and wondering if it really is just my subconscious mind causing these dreams and creating what I wish I could have here in the flesh? Or is it dad’s way of coming to me, or even God's means of bringing dad to me and allowing me to feel his presence and to know that he is taking care of me? I know that might sound far fetched to a lot of you, but hey, crazier things have happened.
It’s an extremely surreal concept that for the rest of my time on this earth, all that’s left of seeing my dad are my past memories I’ve made with him. It’s an insanely difficult thing to accept when your are faced with losing one of the most important people in your life, and it is nothing I could have ever truly understood until after I lost my dad. Over the last 8 months it seems that my dreams have brought my dad to me at the times when I’ve been struggling the most and needing to feel his love. Because of this, I decided early on to start recording my dreams of him as soon as I wake up so that those images will never fade. I hold dear both the memories of my dad, alive and happy and loving life, as well as the dreams that bring him to me from another place. Knowing that I can never spend another day in this world with my dad, I’ve chosen to take these dreams for what they are, and to think of them as new memories with my dad that I have been fortunate enough to create.
*Side note: I know I have been a huge blog slacker these past few months, and it’s probably not the best to come back with another depressing post...but good news for all!! It’s my goal to try to go back and write stories on some of the highlights of traveling this last year. Along with the other random blog posts in between ;) Stay tuned for more!
No comments:
Post a Comment