Since my dad died, I’ve had a really hard time getting out of bed in the mornings. There is a lot contributing to this problem, but one that stands out the most is that I want to sleep more, because sometimes I dream about him, and when I wake up, I want to go back to sleep to get back into the dream. When I can’t go back to sleep, I cry because then I have to force myself to remember that he’s gone.
I dreamed of him last night. I wish I could remember the whole dream, but it’s already fading. There were a lot of us, friends and family, and in the dream I knew we were at my parents’ house, but it wasn’t exactly their house. The only part I vividly remember is that we were upstairs by his stereo, and he and I were talking about the weather.
A few days after he died, I dreamed that he was able to come back, but just for half an hour. I was walking up the stairs at my parents house and he was at his stereo, making a tape of a record. I hugged him and told him I loved him and asked him why he couldn’t stay longer. I can’t remember now what we talked about, and I wish I had written it down then. Then our half hour was up and we walked down the stairs, and sat about halfway up on the steps, and hugged and I cried until he was gone.
Earlier this week, I dreamed I was in the garage at my parents’ house, working on the old Mustang. The floor of the garage was sunken, like at a mechanic shop, and I was under the car. Then my dad and my uncle came up the driveway and came into the garage to help me. We were covered in oil and grease in no time, but we had managed to fix whatever it was we were working on, and my dad was happy with the progress we’d made together.
In my dreams, he’s so real. He looks like just like he did over the past few years, with his gray ponytail and beard and crows feet around his eyes. He’s never young in my dreams. Sometimes he talks to me in the present, knowing that he’s passed, and sometimes it’s like it never happened. He never says anything profound in the dreams that make me suspect that he’s come to give me comfort…no last messages of love or guidance. More often than not, we just talk about what’s happening in the dream or in real life, like we were talking on the phone and catching up.
I know I can’t stay in bed half the day…I need to work, and take care of my family and myself. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing the bare minimum to get by, and I feel so guilty about it, because my family deserves better and I know my dad would be disappointed to see me like this. It’s just so hard, and the dreams are so wonderful. But I know I need to do it, and I’m really going to try…starting tomorrow. Maybe I can give myself one day a week to sleep in as long as Kyla is covering for me with life…and maybe I can still, occasionally, get to see my Diddy in my dreams.