Hitching a Ride with Dad

I believe I’ve mentioned before that I have some strange dreams on occasion. I can go weeks, even months, without remembering any of the dreams that hit me during the night. But then I can have several consecutive nights when I’ll remember those dreams in vivid detail. Last night was one of those nights.

I dreamed that I was riding in the car with my Dad. He was driving me somewhere with the intention of dropping me off for a while. It was strange because, I felt like I was a kid in the dream, but my mind was the mind I possess today. Anyway, on the way to our destination, we talked about how things have been going. I’d like to say that we had a deep conversation about life and love and other mysteries, but I basically just recapped a fictionalized and exaggerated version of my day.

I told him I’d spent way too much money on lunch at some Italian place called Gambino’s. I don’t know why I called it Gambino’s. In reality, I went to Olive Garden with some friends after church. It’s true that I spent too much money, but I don’t know where the name Gambino came from. Maybe it’s because I went to see The Martian yesterday, which stars, in a small role, Donald Glover, aka Childish Gambino. I guess that makes sense to my subconscious.

Then I told him about how I heard a Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin style cover of Lionel Ritchie’s “Hello” when I was in the bathroom at the restaurant. I’m pretty sure that actually happened, unless the lines between my dream and reality have become blurred. I told him I couldn’t figure out how that would work, a crooner singing an upbeat “Hello.” So he and I sang together, trying to figure it out.

He stopped in front of a hotel and let me know that was my stop. He said by and that he’d see me later. I watched him drive away and began to cry. The tears carried over to the real world, where I awoke to a wet spot on my pillow and streaks on my face.

I really can’t remember the last time I had such a vivid dream involving my Dad. Soon after he passed away, I dreamed about him a lot. Those dreams faded over time. Tomorrow marks nine years since he’s been gone. Maybe my subconscious was aware of the anniversary and it played into my dreams.

Whatever the case, it’s unfair. I love dreaming about that guy, because it’s like I get ot see him and talk to him and it can be as if the last nine years didn’t happen. But then I have to wake up and lose him all over again. I don’t cry over him these days. I miss him, but my memories make me smile or laugh. But dreams like these make it really hard to hold back those tears.

That guy sticking his tongue out? That's Dad... There was never a dull moment with that guy.

That guy sticking his tongue out? That’s Dad… There was never a dull moment with that guy.

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