shaky start

This morning hasn’t started too well… I should have just gotten up at 8 when my eyes first opened without an alarm clock. But no, I had to stick it out in sleep until it rang at 9:30. In this stubborn sleep I had the strangest dream.
Miriam and I were sitting on the side of our old neighborhood road where we grew up, on the hill where the vet office always has been and where the best sledding parties happened when we lived only a block away. Suddenly… my Dad walks by.
No, this is not normal because he’s dead and he was dead in the dream as well. So there goes a man that looks exactly like my Dad, but about three years younger. He had the light brown beard with flecks of gray, the thin metal frame glasses, “the hat” which is a canvas tourist trekking type of hat that he always wore on ever single trip until last year, his worn yellow t shirt with full breast pocket (he always carried around pens, 3×5’s, and other toys) that was tucked into khaki shorts. He had those white socks pulled up high on his calves and was wearing his always-trendy running shoes. Wow. Spitting image. And he was smirking- joking back at us like he knew he looked just like Dad.
My mouth flew open and the tears dripped out of my eyes along with wrenching sobs and pains inside. The grief was just as fresh in my dream as it is in my reality. Miriam and I both wept because we couldn’t have our father back, and nobody should be allowed to look like his twin…
I’m surprised I didn’t weep out loud in my sleep actually.
This Dad look-alike made a deal with us I think. He’d give us some flavored drink and we could mix it with Dad-flavored drink and there- we’d have instant Dad flavored drink. I don’t know how this made any sense, but in dreams people will do or think anything. And in my dream I would do anything to have more of Dad around.
And that is when I woke up. My heart raced and thudded against my chest. I was mere thoughts away from crying in reality. I didn’t want to be conscious but was too afraid to go aback to sleep and see him again. Why was it such a bad experience? I like remembering Dad so healthy and grinning…

Well anyway, I don’t really feel like going to classes today but I suppose I should. At this rate I’ll never feel like going ever again, but that doesn’t give me a good excuse now does it?


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