Loss

I had another dream about my father last night.

I was back in Michigan - we were walking down the Lake Huron shoreline (near where I used to live), laughing and talking. I don't remember the entire conversation, but I know at one point I told him about my job and all of the changes that are about to happen. After that, he asked me about M and said that he would like to meet him soon. The conversation & the walk were both very ordinary feeling and comfortable - it was as if he had never been sick & had been around for everything that had happened over the last 14 years.

Everything changed once our conversation shifted to his experiences in the Navy and the time he spent in Cuba. I asked him a question about his travels and he just stared at me. I repeated the question and once again, he just stared back at me. I started to get frustrated because he wouldn't say anything... and I could only ask the same question over and over. It got to point in which I started screaming the question and begging him to answer me, but he just stared and never said a word.

In the middle of the screaming fit, I woke up and discovered that my pillow was soaked with a combination of tears and sweat. I tried to force myself back to sleep, but found myself unable to stop thinking about the dream. After tossing and turning for awhile, I realized that the reason the dream version of my father wouldn't answer my question was because I don't know the answer. Actually, anyone who might possibly be able to answer my fairly simple question is dead. There is no one left who can tell me the things about him I didn't have time to learn. I have no way of ever finding the answers to questions big or small; I will always have to be satisfied with not knowing.

For the most part, I've learned to be okay with not having the opportunity to really get to know my father & I've moved on with my life since his death... but occasionally, the weight of everything I've lost presses on my chest and makes it hard to breathe.