Just a Dream?

Last night I had the most wonderful and simple dream. What I remember is that my Dad was sitting on a couch, healthy and happy. He was talking, to me I think but I'm not sure because I wasn't really paying attention. I remember thinking "Am I dreaming? I must be. But this feels so real! Maybe God is finally answering my prayer and giving me my Dad again. Here he is just as I wondered what I would do if I ever saw him again." It was at that point that I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. I hugged him and wouldn't let go. I cried a little, but they were tears of joy. I don't remember if we spoke at all, or what we may have said. I remember glancing back and seeing my Mom standing there with tears in her eyes. She turned to wipe them away, and I knew she was so happy for this moment. I really, seriously, have never felt more sure that a dream was reality. I had even gone through the process of questioning of this were just another dream like all the rest, wherein I realized they were dreams while I was experiencing them. This time felt completely different. I can't explain it, except to say that it was real at the time. When I awoke I sat for a few minutes trying to process what just happened. I was coming to grips with the fact that I was just laying in bed after this very vivid dream. I was picturing in my head again and again what he looked like just moments earlier; trying to savor the memory and the feeling. I replayed it over and over in my head. While other times I woke up so emotional that I would begin to cry, this time I did not. I only cried as I was putting together the words to describe this experience just now. My emotions are mixed because I know it was only a dream and my Dad is not here, but I also can't help but feel that perhaps this was a little answered prayer for me, and maybe the only feasible way I could receive what I was asking for, and I should be grateful for that.

Ebbs and Flows

What I've learned through my healing process (oh gosh I hope that's what this is) is that the grief ebbs and flows.  Maybe it's not as consistently timed as the ocean waves, but it seems like just as I think I'm starting to hurt a little less, sadness will wash over me.

I can recognize the my coping mechanisms, too. First, there's the ever popular "don't think about this right now and you'll feel better". I use this many times, even subconsciously I'm sure, because there are days when I don't think about my Dad very much, if at all. I feel guilty sometimes about this, but these days are so much easier and more manageable so I figure it's ultimately ok.

Then there's the denial approach. Sometimes I really don't believe that he is gone. It's such a foreign feeling for me still, having him absent from my life. There are times when I just think we've simply been out of touch for a long time. Like I just haven't picked up the phone and called him in a while.

A little of the bargaining stage peeks in here. I think, "if only I could have just the slightest form of communication with him still, then I would feel so much better and be able to live my life." I rationalize that if only I could hear his voice in my head, or just talk to him on the phone, that maybe I could make peace with never seeing him again. Or I wish for one more day, one more hour even, where we could hug and cry and say all the things we didn't have a chance to say.

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I actually were granted these things. I know God is capable of miracles, and people have visits from ghosts all the time. I wonder what my reaction would be if I saw my Dad again. If the phone rang and he was on the other line. If I heard his voice clearly in my head. Would I be fearful and frozen, unable to react? Would I be so overcome with joy that I run to him with open arms, or cry happy tears? Would I be able to make the most of those moments? And would that experience finally give me peace and closure? Or would I simply become insatiable when it was over, having finally tasted something so sweet and then unable to have it again?

Some days I lay in bed, unable to sleep because I'm trying so hard to think of something, anything, besides my Dad, but he's all that comes to mind.

And sometimes I'm out there living my life, trying to do everything and anything that would have elicited a reaction from him if he were here. Recently I expanded my personal business to have a new storefront location. This is something I had only dreamed of previously. My Dad was always so proud of me and my business and each small success that I experienced. I threw myself into my new project of getting this storefront, believing it was something he would want for me. As I admire the finished product I imagine how proud he would be of me. I envision him walking in and seeing the space and having a reaction only characterized as him; phrases like "nuh-uh" and "no way" and even "cool beans". Ha! I imagine his eyes swelling with tears of pride, and the big hugs that would ensue. I'd tell him about all the amazing deals I got on the furniture pieces, and how I refinished them to look this way; things I know he would be impressed with and react to.

The truth is I feel like I'm always trying to impress him still. I'm trying to do anything that might elicit a reaction on his part. I'm wishing I could hear his voice saying words of praise and elation, an wishing I could feel his presence. Something, anything, that let me know he was with me. It's like this challenge I've given myself, that if I do enough, eventually something will be so monumental that it will warrant an outreach. I'm literally begging for some kind of communication from him. I know, I know... I may be so loud in all of this that I cannot hear the quiet moments that might hold something for me. Maybe I'm not paying attention enough to the subtle messages around me. Maybe he can only do so much, and my expectations are too high. I'm working on this...

But in case you didn't already know, Dad, so much of what I do is for you. So much of how I live my life, and the decisions I make, are to honor you and make you proud.