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Last night, I had the first dream I can remember of my dad since he died. He was sitting quietly, which was usual for him, and I had a sense of his being back, though what from wasn't spelled out. So I didn't immediately have a sense that he was back from death in the dream; it's just he was back from Being Gone. And I had a sense that this was a limited time occurrence.
I was at first busy trying to get a friend most important to him back from Being Gone for him to see while he was here. The sense I had of the friend is that he was a cross between one of his friends, "The Boys," who he hung out with all his life from childhood, and his brother, so it wasn't quite one of his recently deceased friends. It's just that the friend, of the two deceased, who I wasn't imagining was more important to my dad, and I only recently learned that, so it probably hasn't sunk into my unconscious. So that explains why I needed to fuse people, and his brother is someone he was always close to.
Then I realized I was spending time doing this while Dad was just there for a limited time. So I decided to let other people--who weren't figured in my dream--handle it, and went over to hold hands with Dad. That's significant, since putting my hand in his and feeling him squeeze it with his fingers was the last kind of mutual contact I had with my dad since he entered the hospital for the several weeks before he died. So we held hands. He didn't talk at all--he just looked ahead like he was watching the television or in his own head--that was very typical Dad. There was no eye contact between us, but it wasn't strange that there wasn't--the handhold was Dad-like acknowledgment.
It was really nice to see him again. This was a comforting dream. It wasn't long until I was making semi-lucid commentary on his having Been Gone equating with being dead, maybe even when I was still viewing the dream--I don't think I was viewing myself though--I was just on a couple levels of myself. But Dad was clear--the dream really let me see him again solidly. Kind of a lovely father's day gift of Dad to me.
Here's a pic taken of him by my cousin the summer of 2005, the year before he died. I think it's my favorite picture of him.
You can see why I feel if he had gotten proper medical care, both before and in the hospital, he'd still be here. He was not an old 79.
Dad was sitting up and comfortable again in the dream, looking like the guy in that picture, and that was a comforting thing to really feel I was experiencing once again--yay for the unconscious mind doing good by me this time.
P.S. Heeeeee! I just realized that having the dream the night before, rather than on the wee hours of father's day, is just so my dad, just as he died the day before his birthday. Always having to get there early. And that's totally not me. (-; Yo, Dad, did you send that? Now I'm comforted and amused. (-:
I was at first busy trying to get a friend most important to him back from Being Gone for him to see while he was here. The sense I had of the friend is that he was a cross between one of his friends, "The Boys," who he hung out with all his life from childhood, and his brother, so it wasn't quite one of his recently deceased friends. It's just that the friend, of the two deceased, who I wasn't imagining was more important to my dad, and I only recently learned that, so it probably hasn't sunk into my unconscious. So that explains why I needed to fuse people, and his brother is someone he was always close to.
Then I realized I was spending time doing this while Dad was just there for a limited time. So I decided to let other people--who weren't figured in my dream--handle it, and went over to hold hands with Dad. That's significant, since putting my hand in his and feeling him squeeze it with his fingers was the last kind of mutual contact I had with my dad since he entered the hospital for the several weeks before he died. So we held hands. He didn't talk at all--he just looked ahead like he was watching the television or in his own head--that was very typical Dad. There was no eye contact between us, but it wasn't strange that there wasn't--the handhold was Dad-like acknowledgment.
It was really nice to see him again. This was a comforting dream. It wasn't long until I was making semi-lucid commentary on his having Been Gone equating with being dead, maybe even when I was still viewing the dream--I don't think I was viewing myself though--I was just on a couple levels of myself. But Dad was clear--the dream really let me see him again solidly. Kind of a lovely father's day gift of Dad to me.
Here's a pic taken of him by my cousin the summer of 2005, the year before he died. I think it's my favorite picture of him.
You can see why I feel if he had gotten proper medical care, both before and in the hospital, he'd still be here. He was not an old 79.
Dad was sitting up and comfortable again in the dream, looking like the guy in that picture, and that was a comforting thing to really feel I was experiencing once again--yay for the unconscious mind doing good by me this time.
P.S. Heeeeee! I just realized that having the dream the night before, rather than on the wee hours of father's day, is just so my dad, just as he died the day before his birthday. Always having to get there early. And that's totally not me. (-; Yo, Dad, did you send that? Now I'm comforted and amused. (-:
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My brother had a dream the night after Dad died in that one of Dad's deceased friends--the same one who was part of the conglomerate friend from my dream--came up to my brother and said, "Don't worry about your father. We'll take care of him now." It was really comforting for him, too.