I’ve never been much of one to analyze my dreams. I’m not that into navel gazing despite my weekly therapy appointments. Last night, though, I had some intense dreams. Maybe it was because I had therapy late last night, and we’ve been talking a lot about my childhood…specifically 3rd grade and my teacher (Mrs. H.) Maybe thoughts were swirling around in my head about my childhood, and some of the things my therapist said about how I am better to other people than I am to myself. Maybe it’s because a friend of mine’s father died this week, and anytime that happens it brings back thoughts of my Dad. But I’ve been dreaming about him a lot lately. In most of the dreams he doesn’t talk, he is just there and I know that he’s dead and that he won’t be staying, but it’s comforting to know he’s there. In these dreams he’s also the Dad from 20 years ago, without the aging and limp that haunted him in his last few years. But in the dream last night he said, two or three times, “I love you” which, if you knew my Dad, was something he felt and showed, but not something he said very much. It was so comforting to have that dream, because I know my Dad loved me, and I always felt it, but it was comforting to be reminded of it even if it was in a dream. Some people might say it was him visiting me from somewhere else. I’m not sure I believe that necessarily, but I do believe it was God reminding me of that.


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