I felt like Cassandra this morning, from the Greek mythology. She could tell the future, but could do nothing about it. I had this vivid dream about my dad, as he was driving me to our old home in his white caprice, smiling and wearing his brown beret cap. It was just my dad and I in the car. The dream was from the first person perspective, and I was looking up at him, as if he was a giant, so I could only surmise that I was much younger in the dream.
Yet, I had all the knowledge of an adult, and I knew that he was not going to be with me anymore. I was a mute in the dream, I didn’t say much, just simply watched him in awe and fascination. I do recall frantically thinking to myself to scramble to find a digital video camera so I could capture the few precious minutes I get to spend with him since the day he passed. Of course it was highly anachronistic to have a digital video camera, given the context and the time in which the dream occurred, so as I am writing this, I will have to settle for looking at his face through pictures and memories.
Then I just woke up, and I don’t quite know how to describe it. It’s like biting into a something bitter sweet. I was happy that I had the opportunity to dream about him, yet bitter that it was merely a dream. I just laid there in shock, not knowing if I wanted to laugh or cry. After about 5 minutes, I realized I had to get up and go to work. It’s what he would of wanted. They’ve instilled a strong work ethic into me, and he would be very bummed if I had my day slightly discombobulated on the account of him. But yeah, I have come to grips with reality that his passing has left a larger crater in me than I initially thought.