Oct
06

In My Dreams

By

“Visit me in my dreams tonight, Dad.”

When I am alone, I talk to my dad and I always end with that request.

I miss him. The kind of miss that physically pains. The kind of miss that literally takes my breath away. The kind of miss I can’t let myself feel for too long and have to push aside before it gets to be too much. And all I want is to see and hear my dad again. I want to see his quirky smile. I want to listen to him telling me I’m a knothead or going on about a recent hunting excursion that I would only half understand because of the jargon. I want to see him tinkering in the garage, or holding my Muffin. I want to call him to the dinner table or ask him to fix something for me.

But I can’t do any of that anymore.

In my dreams is the only place I have a chance to see him again.

My grandmother was the first person really close to me who died. I dreamed of her often, and I remember how it took me by surprise to discover just how vivid she was in my dreams. The lines in her face, the gentleness in her eyes—they were there in my dreams. If I was awake and tried to recall her face or her voice, it would be there, but a hazy version.  I grew to like seeing her in my dreams because I liked the sharpness with which my subconscious could bring her to me. As time passed, I dreamed of her a little less, and the hurt grew a little less too. Maybe, just maybe, it was because I got to see her from time to time. In my dreams.

My dad has been gone a month. A day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t cried and ached to see him. I’ve only dreamed of him a handful of times, but I love it when I do. I want more. I know I will wake, and the void and the miss will still be there. But for just a brief time, he is with me again. Even if it’s only in my dreams.

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Categories : journeys in life

Comments

  1. Helene says:

    I love you, Kell. My heart aches for the void you now have in your heart.
    xoxox
    Helene

    [Reply]

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