Dream of my Father July 2, 2018
This was a rather interesting dream, one with which I did not expect as it has been many years since I have had the pleasure to dream of this man; my father.
I was walking home from someone’s house, the path reminding me of when, as a teenager I used to walk home from visiting my friend Anita. The route seemed to be quite similar.
On my way down the hill I saw a man coming towards me, it was dusk and I was in the city, so part of me was concerned but I did my best not to show it as he approached. He came straight over to me and began a conversation which I can’t remember, talking as he walked beside me. He invited me to his home and for some reason I decided it would be OK to go, following him to his apartment on the next block.
He was a nice looking man perhaps in his 30’s, with blonde curly hair, gentle brown eyes and a very easy personality. He lived in an apartment above the garage belonging to a family with whom he seemed well acquainted. Their children followed us up the stairs into the apartment, laughing and playing the whole way.
I walked into the living room and was surprised at the mess, with his things just scattered everywhere. It was hard to know where to sit, but he apologized and cleared a spot for me, while shooing the kids out the door. I’m not sure how long I was there, but we just talked, there was no hidden agenda on his part – it was like talking to my father in some ways, so I was glad for the introduction.
When I rose to go he came up to me, held each of my arms in his hands and looked into my eyes. We were so close and I was curious at his sudden intense attitude. He said to me “You are a very gracious lady,” referring to the way I was willing to spend time with him even though I did not know who he was, or why I was approached.
I had the presence to accept and not judge, and this seemed to be very important to him. What got my attention and made me remember the importance of this dream was how his whole body changed as he said this to me, most noticeably his face. His eyes became lifeless, a milky white, and his skin lost all colour, draining him of life. It was as if his body was actually not alive. It was all a bit disturbing and I was trying not to let it show on my face as he spoke to me. He was after all just telling me how proud he was of me for accepting him as he was, not knowing his identity.
This was when I woke up, a little shaken at what I had just seen, thinking at first how bizarre I would dream something like that. Thinking about it while I had my morning coffee, I began to see something I couldn’t while in the dream. There was power in this dream that would not let me go and I understood why when I realized that I had been spending time with my father once again.
It had been so long since I have had him come to me in a dream, but he never before came to me in disguise. Still, with all I have been through I have somehow managed to sustain the innocence of my inner child, accepting people without concern for status, culture, or class.
This message was obviously something he was proud to tell me and a phenomenal gift I am incredibly grateful to receive. To see him again after so many years means more than I can possibly convey.
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