I was in a dream. It wasn’t terribly memorable, or significant. There were dreamy things coming and going like they do, and my mind just going along for the ride. A lot was happening, as dreams can do, and it is hard for me to put into words just how I got there.
There
was a friend of a neighbor visiting me with two girls. They were looking to
borrow some cups for the girls, and I was showing them the shelf they were on
and going through the several different ones they could choose from (none of
which I actually own in the awake realm).
There
was a change of scenery. There was a delivery of some sort of jarred goods from
the neighbor’s friend. Two boxes, one came with broken jars. I was trying to
stop her from leaving so I could tell her about the broken jars, and as in
dreams, it became impossible to get her attention. I think I tried following
her, and then I was gliding through thoughts most randomly and quickly. Too
quickly to pinpoint the moment it occurred to me…
“Why
can’t people just be happy?” I heard in the ether. A conversation I’m sure I’ve
had in the past with my father.
My
father who passed from this realm last October. Then it dawned on me, much like
it does every day, that he is gone. That these conversations that were so very
good to have with him won’t be happening anymore. “But I have an answer now,” I
thought, perhaps out loud. “Because they are stifled. Their emotions are so
suppressed, they don’t know how to be anything, let alone happy.”
There
was no response, of course. The sadness that creeps up on me every day came
upon me, and even though I was in the dream realm, and not sure exactly where I
was, I tried to stifle it. My eyes started tearing, and I tried to push them down.
This is an old habit, and apparently one that my dream self was most
comfortable with. I was still looking for the woman who’d delivered the jars so
I could tell her, but the dream realm had other plans.
I’ve
been having a lot of what I call, “busy dreams,” lately, where I try to
complete a task, but 1,000 other things happen that get in my way. I usually
have these when my body is tense and my mind is busy. Thankfully, I forget them
shortly upon waking. But it is a wake up call for me to get some rest for both
body and mind.
So,
as I was stifling tears, and looking for this woman, I found myself in a place.
I find it hard to describe, other than it was open, and felt like a combination
of a bar and an athletic department in a school (and no, not a sports bar).
There were two large rooms with a large opening between them. As I stood there
wondering where I was and where to look for this woman, an old family friend
walked up to me. She was wearing an oversized green wind breaker with some
college team’s logo on it in white, and holding a blue key lanyard. “Carol!” I
exclaimed, surprised and somewhat happy to see her. “Hi there,” she said as we
paused and moved awkwardly into a stiff hug. “Have you seen Anthony?”
“Anthony?
No, I haven’t seen him in years, a very long time.” I don’t know who Anthony
is. In my mind, she was referring to her husband, who’s name is not Anthony
that I know of.
She
kind of wandered off, I assumed to keep looking.
I
felt comfortable in this space, whatever it was. People were coming and going,
not much interaction, but it felt like a good vibe. Now that I think about it
with my awake brain, it felt like some sort of terminal, but I wasn’t aware of
any type of transportation.
I
went to walk into the second room. As I rounded the opening, I almost walked
right into him; my dad. There he was bold as life, looking amazing and happy.
So very happy. He wore a white, short-sleeved, button down shirt with thin
green criss-crossed weaved lines through it. Khaki slacks and carrying
wallpaper books by their roped handles. His face was glowing and smiling. So
happy.
My
surprise was overwhelming and also happy. We looked at each other, acknowledging
each other and instantly hugged. Suddenly I knew. This wasn’t a dream. This was
a visit. Thinking about him brought him to me, or me to him. In the moments of
hugging, I said, “I miss you!” He hugged me tighter. It was wonderful. There
was so much happiness. My uncle, his younger brother, who is still in this
realm, was in the background, like he was just waiting to see if I needed him,
or maybe waiting his turn to visit. Stoic and loving. My Dad didn’t reply. There
were no words exchanged after my exclamation, and then I woke up just before
the alarm went on.
This wasn’t the first visit I’ve had with my dad since he left this realm. He has been in my dreams a few times now. But it was very different. You see, when he left this realm, he was quite out of his mind. He was not aware of reality at all. He had suffered a stroke six years prior, and since that time, dementia had taken hold of him, and deteriorated his brain slowly and painfully. It was very hard for all of us who love him to watch. Especially my mother, who became his main caretaker. It was her full (very full) time job. I’m sure it was horrifying for him to actually go through, sometimes knowing his brain wasn’t right, and not knowing what he could do about it.
I was in the hospital when he passed. Not in the room, but there shortly after with my mom and younger brother. I knew he had gone, but also that he was going to need time before I heard from/saw him again. I knew I would, because I have seen others who have passed in my dream state. They are different from dreams, I know this from these past visits. I knew I would have to be patient and give him time to understand what had happened. I knew he would be reconnected to his full self, and it would take time to process all that occurred these last six years. I also knew that time is a man made concept, and energetic time is completely different, and that my dad has always been open to other realms and other worldly ideas. So, really, I had no idea when I might hear from him, but I knew I had to have patience.
Pazienza.
I’ve had a few “visits” from him in my dream state. They weren’t exactly how I’ve had other visits. Perhaps it’s because I wasn’t as patient as I should be, and just really wanted to see him. The first couple he was there, in a bunch of people, family and others I didn’t know, but he was in the background, not speaking, not interacting with anyone. I took these like an update on how his healing was going. I appreciated them, even though they were minimal.
Pazienza.
Then
there was one where I ran into him and went to hug him, and he put his hand out
to shake my hand, and said, “Well I think we should get to know each other
first!” I knew this wasn’t the time, but he was starting to acclimate to his
surroundings.
Pazienza.
Ever
see the movie What Dreams May Come with Robin Williams? When I saw that movie
many years ago, I was blown away. I had recently lost a dear friend, and was trying
to figure out how to mourn. I was a mess. I dove into this movie full force,
getting the book and reading it twice or more. Crying. Crying. Crying. Trying
to understand death and all it means. Gosh, I was young then (in my twenties).
There is a scene in that movie where Robin’s character first gets to his version
of heaven. He learns to manipulate his world, and makes it beautiful. My Dad
always loved that scene, and I knew that’s what he was learning to do. Painting
his world just how he would love it.
Pazienza.
When
he passed, all I could think of was, “He’s gone.” In fact, that’s what I texted
my family to let them know. That’s all I felt. That’s all I knew. He’s gone.
Even though I knew it wasn’t permanent, I felt the incredible absence.
This
morning when I woke up, all I could think of was, “He’s back!” (HP reference,
but in a much more positive way!) So yeah, he’s back, and it makes my heart and
soul happy once more. I know there will still be more time with him, even if it
is in my dream state. And maybe there will be great conversations to be had
after all. 💕
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