The whole process of dreaming fascinates me a little. Not enough to want to invest any real time in investigating them on say a scientific level; just enough that I will often find myself dissecting what happened that month/week/day that infiltrated my subconscious.

I often describe my dreams as if everything I had said/done/seen was tossed into a blender and rearranged in some way.

So last night, I went out for a walk with the love of my life. It was a nice night, crisp and snowing a little. My father loved the snow and every time it snows, I am often reminded of him. My dad has been weighing heavily on my mind as of late, the one year anniversary of his death has just passed and it’s usually this time of year that I miss my family. The craziness of the holidays usually means chaos and I don’t get to see everyone as much as I like, nor for any extended period of time. It’s also my nephews’ birthday and he and his sister are my rays of sunshine.

I had also caught up with a friend of mine who is also getting married this year. So inevitably, we talked about our weddings. I had mentioned that we were holding out for our honeymoon because we wanted to go to Alaska on a cruise and bring my dad’s ashes along. My dad had mentioned to me the summer before he died that if he could do it over again, he would have went to Alaska while he still had the chance. So going there to honor my dad was my love’s idea, which I thought was really sweet. Needless to say, with the wedding coming up and everything else going on, my dad has been weighing pretty heavily on my mind lately in a lot of different ways.

So fast forward to today, I had a dream about my dad. A dream so clear, vivid and concise that I was almost shocked when I woke up to the realization that it wasn’t actually true. I’m usually a lucid dreamer, so I can usually rationalize and recognize a dream for what it is.

Not today though.

I dreamt that I was at my parent’s old house, except it looked like it did when I was much younger. I was standing in the living room talking to my mom drinking my breakfast smoothie. It was a beautiful day outside; the living room was filled with vibrant, natural light. I was feeling peaceful, content and happy.

I can’t remember the last time I felt that good and at peace.

There was a loud knock at the door and my mom gestured for me to go answer it.

*Random side note- No one ever knocked and waited at my parents’ house, unless you were a stranger. I grew up in a home that had an open door policy, anyone was welcome.*

I walked down the hall and I couldn’t see who was standing there through the window, it was so bright and vibrant. Imagine my shock and surprise to see my dad standing there, alive and well. He looked at me and smiled and laughed. I said to him, “what are you doing alive?” My mom said something about a mix up or something and the whole time I’m standing there and I’m thinking to myself did the morgue notice you were still alive? You were cremated, but I don’t have any of your ashes yet because I keep forgetting to take some. I do remember holding the box that they were in and thinking about how heavy it was. And just lots of confusion. There was so much light, it was like he was glowing. You know the clichéd eternal light that’s usually associated with the deceased and angels? I had SO many questions and no one was answering them, they (my parents) just keep looking at me sheepishly and smiling. I wasn’t angry, just very, very confused.

Even more so when he went somewhere and came back with two small children. A boy and a girl neither one any older than the age of 4. I didn’t recognize these children so I don’t know how they’re relevant to my dream but among my confusion, my father looked at me and winked as he was tossing the little girl over his shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.

That’s when I kind of woke up and the realization that my father was still dead and that was a dream. I closed my eyes and started to cry. Dream visits are emotionally draining. I had a lot of dream visits right after my father died. I literally asked him to stop because it would leave me in a depressed state for days after. So it’s been a while since he’s come to visit me. I like to think that he knows he’s been on my mind a lot lately and that I’m hurting really bad because he’s going to miss my wedding and everything else. I figure that he wanted to let me know that he’s OK and that maybe, just maybe I’m going to be OK too.