Finding Home, Chapter 6; Vision of my Father

Vision of my Father September 27, 2002

Another dream about who I now believe was my father. Always in these dreams I have a great deal of love for the man. We have a deep mutual affection towards each other. I have also noticed that each time I dream of him I am always very emotional the next day, as if I am losing him all over again.
I can best describe these visions like an old movie in black and white, so when I say vision this is what I mean. They are different from a dream because it’s like I’m seeing actual events, just like a home movie. This is why I am certain they are real people from my past and not imagining what I want to see. There is also emotion attached to the memories that are as strong today as I write them as when I first saw them. Always they bring tears to my eyes and sometimes I sob for the loss felt in remembering.

This time it was more like watching a slide show rather than a movie, but still in black and white. The photos were of two men. The first man was shown only from the nose down. It is amazing how much the eyes add to a face which you don’t realize until you can’t see them. So much harder to identify someone without the eyes, they tell so much about a person. This man had a fine nose, what I would describe as an aristocratic nose, if that makes sense. He had a thin lipped mouth though it was hard for me to see his lips at all. It was his mouth that caught my full attention for some reason. I could tell just from seeing his lower face he was fine-boned, of thin build but not necessarily athletic. (I have reason to believe now that this man could be my surrogate grandfather, his image drawn by Shirley who did my spiritual reading)*
The other man had a very small resemblance to Rhys Davis Jones when he was younger. This man had similar body type and facial features. I knew it was not the actor that I was seeing, but my mind made the comparison. I realized I knew this man, but could not remember his name or why I knew him, it was there on the edge of my memory.

Knowing what I know now, I realize why I made the comparison, the similarity to my father was strong enough but the pose of the face and the age of the man had to be just right. Rhys Davis Jones was someone that made sense, because he was recognizable.