Sweet Dreams

I had a dream about my dad last night. In the dream, we were at the home that I grew up in and it must have been a Sunday morning because my mom was frying bacon. She was making breakfast for my dad and he was getting ready to go to work. I could sense the urgency for her to hurry--he had to leave and was trying to get directions to where he had to go. I spoke to him in this dream, which was unusual because in most dreams I have had about him I'm just a spectator--watching him as if I am, in fact, in a dream. But not in this one--I was part of it. He was sitting at the computer and was talking to my mom. They were talking about where he was going and he said he couldn't find how to get there. I spoke to him and told him about a Web site to visit and he said that the computer was not functioning properly so I fixed it so he could get his directions. Then, the scene changed. I was at a banquet with Jon and we were going to watch someone get an award. I think it was a school function because a little boy whom I had taught in second grade came up to me. He said, "Can I have a hug?" This particular child and I had bonded that school year because he lost his mother to an illness, similar to the illness that killed my father. This little boy always reminded me of my dad--his appearance, his personality, his wit, his ability to agitate--all of those things reeked of my dad and I had told his grandmother that on many occasions. So in the dream, I looked at the little boy and said, "Come here, baby." I hugged him and he held on to me so tight. I hugged and hugged and hugged him and I didn't want to let go. He didn't want to let go of me, either. You see, his grandmother had told me that I reminded him of his mother. I look similar to the way she looked, our personalities were similar, and the way I carry myself is just like she presented herself. In that dream, that little boy and I were consoling each other. We were taking the place of the person to whom the other had lost and for a moment, we felt like we communicated with our lost loved one. Then, the dream was over.