Dreaming Of angels
I'm a lucid dreamer. That means I am often aware that I'm in a dream and can go so far as to manipulate the ending of a nightmare in my favor. I also usually remember my dreams, a skill not everyone has, so most mornings after waking, I recap the intricate movie that played out in my sleep. They say this is a trainable cognitive skill, but I've always thought I was born with it. I've written in the past about how it took me years to dream that I was an amputee, like my mind couldn't wrap around the fact that my right leg was gone. Much in the same way, when my Dad passed away, all I wanted was to see him again, to hear his voice in my dreams. My brain wasn't ready for that. It took time for him to show up; now he is my favorite guest star.
When I see him, he is at our old house in Miami or traveling the world with me - something I hoped we could one day do, as we had a shared love of exploring. He wears one of the many blue Gap, short-sleeved, collared shirts he owned in life. The ones folded deep into a suitcase I still can't bear to unpack for fear the scent of his cologne will fade from them.
At some point, I become aware that this is all a dream and he isn't really there—at least, not his physical body. So I hug him extra tight, tell him everything I wish I had said when he was here, and do my best to soak up the moment; to make a memory that will last, even if it isn't real. At least once a week, I repeat some version of this dream. But I can't ever change the ending of it. He either passes away in the dream, or he just kind of walks away as I call out to him. I don't usually wake up sad if anything; once I collect myself, I typically feel grateful for the bonus time with him.
My Grandmother occasionally stops by my dreams too. She just smiles this sweet little half smile with the same squinty eyes I inherited at me and I suddenly feel a rush of comfort come over me. I like to believe that our dream angels are checking in us to remind us they loved us deeply enough in life to transcend it. "From this world to the next" like my Dad's last words to me.
