Hi everyone,
I know that listening to other people's dreams is a total drag - "I had such weird dreams last night" is a comment that stirs an internal sigh, especially when announced in the morning, pre-caffeine. You ask politely, then they go on to ramble about the fact that a their favourite pair of converse turned into the Lord of the Horses that had hair like Margaret Thatcher which was obviously her old Maths teacher in spirit. Boring to listen to but fun and therapeutic to tell.
Why is this? Partly because the act of telling them is an interesting and rare little dance we ask our brain to perform - trying to catch the dregs of a world (that pays no attention to things of such little importance like a linear timeline) with a shockingly leaky sieve. And partly because, for those who enjoy/suffer from vivid and long dreams, it is a unique insight into ourselves - often I wake up totally baffled and wondering who gave my brain permission to take me on such bizarre excursions - it certainly wasn't me.
Anyway, despite all of this I am going to attempt relay a couple of my dreams (the shortest versions I promise) and my ponderings on them because they are bothering me and I can't talk to anyone else about them. As you know, this blog is about me and my dad, and my dads death - so no surprise that all the dreams revolve around him.
He is always alive in my dreams, but still very ill and near the end of his life. He is always dying, with a very set time as to when he will pass away. The fact that I have not once had a dream where he had already died, or dies during the dream I can only guess is because my brain just hasn't processed what has happened yet, and is maybe refusing to do so.
"Last night he had three days left. He was dying and he let us all know that on wednesday he was going to go and stand at the end of the garden and shoot himself through the neck with his rifle because he didn't want to die slowly. I was trying to muster the courage to say goodbye, and asking him for one more day because I wasn't ready yet. Later in the dream I re-discovered that I have a baby boy and it was joyful and wonderful and I just spent a long time hugging him."
I can only assume the suicide aspect of this dream is the fact that when dad was dying, my brother tried to ring for an ambulance and dad stopped him. I haven't really given this a second thought because I respect the fact that he wanted to stay out of hospitals towards the end. I know that I am angry with myself for not saying all the things I wanted to tell him sooner, because in the end my lack of ability to deal with what was happening meant that I didn't get to say goodbye - maybe on some level I am angry that he left before I did and whilst I was away. I don't have a child, I'm only 19 - so I don't know what the baby bit was about. Any suggestions?
"A week ago we were in the kitchen with a few family member having a cup of tea and he was sitting in his big dad shaped armchair - an assassin crept up to the window and had his gun aimed at dad. I was the only one who could see this and managed to get to the man in time and grab the gun. But because of the angle I was at I could only turn it away from dad and into me. The guy didn't shoot, I managed to get the gun off him and then had him hostage. Instead of waiting for the police to arrive I shot him in the head. Later in the dream more assassins came and I had to run with dad (even though he was too ill to even walk much) down to the bottom of the garden and hide with him there holding his hand."
Turning the gun on myself - admitting to myself that on some level I would like to swap places with dad? That I would've if I could've? Or maybe it's anger at myself for not saying goodbye. This one was the one most like a nightmare with heart-racing fear in it. I find the violence upsetting, as with in the previous dream. Maybe it is anger coming out, because anger is one emotion I don't really feel from day to day.
"Two weeks ago I was with a friend investigating a church where a bride was murdered (???) and suddenly dad and our family friends were there too and we were all searching the place. Dad wasn't ill at all but robust and healthy this time and in fact it was my mum who had died (she is alive and well in reality). It was a boarded up church and we found some puppies that had been living in the chimney place. When we went a bit further out we found a graveyard which had huge headstones - much taller than the average person. We were walking through them and I was scared and dad teased me a little bit but squeezed my shoulders reassuringly and I joked about him being old and promised not to bury him here."
This was a totally bizarre and shiver inducing dream. Some of it is obvious symbolism. I can only think that a murdered bride could be tied to the fact that he'll never get to walk me down the aisle? This was the worst because he was well in it, so the loss was worse when I woke up. It's painful how accurate my brains recreation of him is.
The worst thing about these dreams is the moment when I wake up and think 'Dad is dying, I need to go and give him a hug quickly' and then realise he has already gone. I hope that no-one else is having distressing dreams but I am sure that you are.
SmallHands X
(I'll attach another photo that makes me happy because there can be a thing as too much sadness, this time it's a happy pig). 
